


Project: Red Strings

by lorryspence



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Corporate, Alternate Universe - Office, Angst, Dating, Fluff, Kissing, Love Confessions, Love Triangles, M/M, Morning Cuddles, Office, Road Trips, Romance, Sex, Work, Workplace Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-09-27
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:01:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 41,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25107406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lorryspence/pseuds/lorryspence
Summary: A seasoned employee in the Bouncing Ball Corporation, Akaashi Keiji finds himself inadvertently recommended as the executive assistant of the CEO. That would be splendid news if it wasn't for the unfurled feelings he had for his boss and the anxieties he had flying solo for once. Gripped with the need to make his former boss proud, Akaashi ushers himself into the executive office of a certain Miya who would later teach him that work may not be all that it's cracked up to be. It's a messy place with too many strings attached.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou, Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou/Miya Osamu, Akaashi Keiji/Miya Osamu, Hinata Shouyou/Kozume Kenma, Kita Shinsuke/Miya Atsumu, Kita Shinsuke/Miya Atsumu/Miya Osamu, Kita Shinsuke/Miya Osamu
Comments: 43
Kudos: 74





	1. The Setup

Akaashi Keiji softly eyed his team leader with a gentle smile. The litany of closing remarks for the presentation was led by Kita Shinsuke. Kita had donned a simple, crisp, gray suit that hugged his body decently. The suit was one of Kita’s favorites to wear as it gave his body much structure and height that his natural anatomy couldn’t. Because of that, he had been a tad bit more cheery than usual when he concluded his closing with, “Lastly, I would like to thank the project leader behind this whole endeavor, Akaashi Keiji.”

The conference room was pierced with polite applause. Akaashi slightly perked up at the sound of his name and took it as a signal to assume his place on the podium. His movements were graceful and evenly paced that he operated with much practiced precision that many of the audiences would associate only from having experience when, in reality, he had none of that.

No. He definitely didn’t. For a mere second, Akaashi’s brows furrowed at the thought.

Akaashi had only been in his second year in the company’s Miyagi branch. He had applied to the company after being fresh out of college, having graduated with honors in management. However, if there was one thing he learned in university, it was that he wasn’t happy in university. Business courses such as his were plagued with various report deadlines, project presentations, mathematical examinations and social expectations. Balancing all these endeavors with the need for sleep, food and social reprieve meant that the young man had successfully burned himself out even before he had the chance of taking up the corporate ladder.

He was tired of constantly being on top of things. No. He was tired of “having” to be constantly on top of things, so unlike his many peers that would throw themselves in high-end consultancy and multi-national electronic industries, Akaashi was keen to join a younger and more vibrant company that leaned towards interests that made him happy. Those interests would mainly concern volleyball.

Hence, the next season, he joined the Bouncing Ball Corporation, a steady and young company for volleyball equipment and sportswear. That was where he met Kita.

Akaashi’s gaze landed gently on his team leader as he said his gratitude to his guidance in this research and project. He turned his raven eyes back to the board before him. Gently lifting his lips into a decent smile, he mustered as much eloquence and charisma he could afford as he began his remarks, eyeing the CEO of the company, Kenma Kozume.

His voice boomed.

“Given our studies and reports, we can definitively say that Bouncing Ball’s new Alpha Collection will carve a place for itself in line of future projections and trends of athletic apparel in the next five years. By increasing material quality, improving athletic wear design and proper sales management on the ground, we will not only gain a 70% increase of revenue, but also honor our mission to provide our consumers with quality innovation in our work and service.”

Akaashi fluttered his eyes on the CEO whose face was slightly obscured by his loosely clasped hands. Kenma pressed his lips into a tight line. Akaashi didn’t know what to make of that, but decided to terminate his speech before the pleasant breathing space turned into an awkward silence.

“Hence-“ He looked devilishly side-to-side at the board, cracking a sly smile. “I urge the board to invest in this project to further build on the growth of the Bouncing Ball Corporation and its future endeavors in the volleyball community.”

Immediately, another boom of applause ensued with many pleased expressions among the executives. Many of them enamored by Akaashi’s performance than actual statement. Akaashi smiled back, projecting as much pleasantries back. However, his raven eyes focused once more on the CEO and his cat-like stare. He was one who wouldn’t be fooled by a show.

Much like the company, the CEO was young and nimble. He fashioned a chic red suit and a loose ombre bun. It was hardly common, but it was widely accepted duly because he was the one and only founder of the corporation, taking it from the ground up as early as after his high school graduation. Hence, no one either took lightly of him or made a dig on his appearance. He was a paradigm of the up and coming millennial start-up success.

“Thank you very much Akaashi.” Kenma’s voice said flatly.

Akaashi straightened up at the sound of his name. He reciprocated the gesture with a timid nod.

Kenma continued with an even and an almost factual tone, “That was a well- put together proposal and presentation. Your team has successfully convinced me into looking into this project and increasing the support for it. However,-“

Akaashi’s eyes widened with expectation.

“I would like to see a further detailed report on the steps and phases of the Alpha line. Kindly send it to my executive assistant, Hinata Shoyo.”

The CEO’s cat-like eyes softened as he looked to his assistant, a bright orange-haired beam of sunshine that flashed a toothy smile Akaashi’s way. His nature was peculiarly contradictory to the nonchalant demeanor of the CEO that their work relationship had always been an office intrigue.

“I’ll review it one more time. Other than that, well done.” Kenma had turned to Akaashi once more, steering the young man’s gaze away from his assistant and projecting an approving nod.

_‘Yes!’_

Akaashi nodded with a smile.

* * *

“Congratulations Akaashi!”

Akaashi winced a little at the impact of Konoha’s slap to his back. It was his friendly gesture of affection and Akaashi happily returned it with a pleasant nod, smile and thanks before bidding his farewell to his old high school friend.

“I see that’s the last of the noisy ones.”

Akaashi turned his slightly flushed face towards the man across him, the highly-respected Kita Shinsuke. In spite of having much of his take of alcohol, Kita remained sharp and proper as ever, not hinting a single bit of tremble or slur in his speech or movement. No. In fact, he was doing quite well in keeping up with the older members of the board at the dinner whom he disappeared to time-to-time.

After the presentation, the project team and executive board reserved a restaurant for a celebratory dinner. Of course, there still remained divisions and hierarchies in the work place. The executive board were seated in a private room, whereas many of the project members occupied the rest of the open space of the dining hall. All-in-all, it was a much more preferred arrangement. Everyone could be more relaxed knowing their bosses weren’t present to breathe down their necks.

Of course, that was except for Akaashi.

Akaashi always found much pleasure in the company of his boss, Kita. It was a fondness for the man because Akaashi saw much of things he wanted to be and much more in him. Even into the late evening dinner and drinking, Kita’s crisp white undershirt remained pressed and clean. It only ever rumpled against the slight contact of fabric against the hidden lines of his physique. Akaashi’s eyes traced over the man as Kita’s watchful eye turned its attention to two new recruits that had found themselves at a loss how to get home as one of them was terribly drunk.

“Excuse me, Akaashi. I’ll get back to you once I attend to these two.”

Akaashi nodded with a smile and faint blush, gesturing Kita to go ahead. However, while Kita was busying himself helping one of the younger employees to his feet, Akaashi was carefully observing his boss while swirling the remaining contents of his drink. Feeling the slight weight of his head or, more appropriately, the intoxication of alcohol, Akaashi propped up his head in the direction of his boss, watching Kita’s back disappear from the front door dutifully carrying one of his passed out employees.

 _‘Wouldn’t it be nice to have someone like Kita-san around? Wouldn’t it be nice to be Kita-san?’_ He smiled before taking another sip.

“Hello, beautiful.”

Akaashi’s eyes widened at the sudden presence that further made himself present from across the table. Fluttering his eyes from his drink, he was greeted by the smug mug of one of the executive members- Miya Atsumu. His blonde hair had been pulled back, possibly from the slickness of the many glasses and bottles he had held in hand. His dark eyes looked expectantly of Akaashi, hoping to coax some favorable reaction from the raven-haired young man.

Unfortunately, due to the many drinks Akaashi has had and his one-tracked mind, he did not get it. He was simply met with a plain “Good evening Miya-san.”

 _‘Boring.’_ Atsumu thought. That was until he looked at Akaashi once more under the warm lights of the restaurant.

Akaashi’s hair remained neat except for the tiny twists and curls at the ends of his strands. His pale face was delicate, almost dainty really. It was long and rounded at the edges and came together with a small sharp chin at the end which cradled his supple, pink lips. They were wet with oil, water and alcohol, but remained very attractive anyway. Akaashi’s spreading blush didn’t help making him look any less delectable to the hungry fox before him.

Atsumu’s eyes lit.

_‘Beautiful. Dainty. Delicate.’_

Atsumu’s dark pupil narrowed on Akaashi, successfully coaxing the young man’s attention. He turned awaiting Atsumu’s response with big doe eyes, slightly deeper in the pool of intoxication.

“Miya-san?”

“Do. You. Want. To. Go. Out?” Atsumu cooed, tantalizing every word with a sense of mischief.

Akaashi wasn’t drunk. He was tipsy and that meant he was rational enough to say no.

“I’m sorry Miya-san. I don’t date people in work.”

Atsumu raised a brow, this time propping his head up with a hand as he inspected the specimen who would say no to him. “Oh why is that? Technically, I’m not a person from work since I’m from the main Tokyo headquarters, whereas you work in the Miyagi branch.” He said as he flicked his finger between Akaashi and him. “So you could date me. You definitely could.” He insisted with a sly smile.

It was apparent on Akaashi’s face that he was having a hard time to effectively rebuff Atsumu’s statement and simply maintained a hard-headed no. “Nonetheless, it would be inappropriate especially since we’ve only met tonight.” Akaashi maintained with an unconvincing flush to his face and fluttering eyes.

Atsumu felt like he wanted to see those long, black, lashes up close. Close enough to kiss.

“Then, are you saying I’d have to fire you to get to date you?”

Akaashi’s half-lidded eyes widened. It was a possibility. He could do just that or maybe it was a joke. Regardless, Atsumu was a man of power and authority and Akaashi was a mere employee with 2 years in the company. He was practically dispensable as the other two men that had left.

Akaashi pressed his lips thinly into a line, not liking the obvious power dynamics or the half-meant threat. He felt the need to shut it down, but didn’t know how to do it effectively without injuring the man’s ego. Frazzled, he looked side-to-side seeking for help only to realize there was no one there. Like the two young men, many of the project members had left and the other remaining were seated far off to the side, leaving Akaashi practically alone with the executive. He gulped. Perspiration suddenly making itself present on his skin.

“Miya-san-“ He said with hands surrendered to his chest, feigning an earnest refusal until he fumbled.

Plop.

In a flurry, Akaashi had accidentally knocked down his glass, allowing the transparent liquid to snake its way across the table and drip towards Atsumu’s pants. Drip. Akaashi’s face turned even redder.

“Oi-“

Akaashi had shut his eyes closed and curled into his body, prepared for the man to grab his collar or to punch his face.

“Atsumu.” That was until he heard the calm and stern voice of his team leader, Kita.

“Kita-san?” Akaashi squeaked with one eye open.

“Akaashi.” Kita greeted him with a smile before returning his cold gaze on Atsumu, catching the man in mid-lunge. “Atsumu.-“ He narrowed his eyes further, eliciting the desirable fear in the man. “Let me take you to the bathroom and help you wash off that stain properly.” Kita managed to say calmly, coldly, but, most of all, imposingly.

It ushered the executive up on his feet to pitter patter towards the bathroom quickly in fear of retribution. Before, Kita would disappear again, he managed to squeeze Akaashi’s shoulder reassuringly. “I’ll be back.”

For some reason, in spite how short-lived that contact was, for Akaashi, it was heart-swooning.

In a matter of minutes, Kita had returned. Thankfully, he was alone. His dress shirt had finally been rumpled after having rolled his sleeves and his normally stoic face had slightly betrayed his fatigue. _‘Was Miya-san that terribly rough to handle?’_

“Are you okay Kita-san?”

The older man raised a teasing brow to Akaashi with a sigh. “I should be asking you that. I heard everything from Atsumu.” Actually the more appropriate term would be that Kita forced everything out of Atsumu. In spite of being of lower rank in the company, many, even those higher up, feared Kita because Kita exuded a certain expectation of doing things properly, well and excellently. His command was further highlighted by the public fact that Kita had never failed in his work. He never turned in work that was mediocre, half-baked or half-hearted. It was because of this great amount of capability that Akaashi felt most ashamed at that moment. He was incapable of handling himself.

“Ugh!” He covered his flustered face with his nimble hands, making sure no skin would touch the glass of his lens. “Does this mean I’m going to get fired?” He mumbled from under his palms.

Kita laughed crinkling his eyes into downturned crescents and bunching his cheeks a tad higher. It was uncharacteristic, but very soothing to see. You could say it almost made Akaashi’s heart skip a beat as he burned the image into his head. Kita was so unguarded, candid and genuinely amused. The man wiped a tear from his eyes before settling his warm gaze on Akaashi endearingly.

“Don’t let Atsumu fool you. Everything he said was a tease and a joke. I hope it didn’t get to you.”

Akaashi timidly said, “It did a little.”

“Hm.” Kita hummed sternly as he poured a glass of water for himself. “I made sure Atsumu got an earful from me. Also, there’s nothing to be afraid of when it comes to his little half-meant threats. He’s just a stand-in for the actual COO of the company after all. He wouldn’t have the power or backbone to do that to you.” Kita quickly takes a sip before lowering the glass with both hands and gazing on Akaashi once more.

“I wouldn’t let him anyway. You’re too good Akaashi.”

With that, Akaashi’s blush grew a hue brighter and his face crinkled into folds as he stifled the heat erupting from his body, threatening to make itself known.

Kita continued. “You did very well today and I am proud of how much you’ve grown over the short span of 2 years. In fact, I’m duly impressed.” Kita beamed a soft smile before clasping his hands and pointing his gaze towards the private room where all the executives remained quietly.

He turned his warm gaze to Akaashi once more. “I was so duly impressed that I recommended you.”

Akaashi straightened up in his seat. “Recommended me?”

“Yes.” Kita nodded with a smile while balancing his chin on top of the back of his hand. “I recommended you to be the CEO’s new executive assistant.”

“Excuse me? The CEO’s executive assistant? Is Hinata-san leaving Kenma-san’s side?”

“Oh no.” Kita sipped his glass of water once more before lifting his mischievous gaze towards the young man, daringly saying, “There’s going to be a change in leadership.”

* * *

“What? A change in leadership?” Atsumu yelped out of chagrin. The young blonde man had stood up abruptly after the news that he had knocked his seat down from the full force of his surprise. “What changes are we talking about?” Atsumu demanded planting two solid hands on the round table, jolting the delicacies and fine porcelain on the table for a moment.

“Calm down Atsumu.”

Eyes turned to the source, Kenma. His hands were clasped loosely once more, forming a plane for which his chin could rest on. He let out a heavy sigh before setting his cat-like eyes on Atsumu. His pupils narrowed intensely that it straightened Atsumu up, reminding the Miya of his place. Kenma continued in an even and cold tone. “The only leadership that will be changing will be the CEO position.”

Audible gasps were heard throughout the room as head turned to one another, fathoming the change in ranks.

Kenma paid no mind as he confronted Atsumu’s already lingering question, “Why?”

The young CEO unclasped his hands and lightly threw them forward as he lounged on his seat’s backrest. He challenged Atsumu. “Why not?” Kenma looked away, trailing to the door that led to the room adjacent to theirs, to the room where all executive assistants were to eat, to the room where Shoyo was busy. He wasn’t afraid to let his eyes stay there.

“Put simply, Bouncing Ball Corporation is growing rapidly and, though, I am smart and quick on my feet, I did not graduate with a business degree. The processes and phases that Bouncing Ball Corp. needs to take on will be more complex and highly incomprehensible for a non-university graduate such as myself.” He pressed a hand to his chest.

He focuses his cat-like stare on Atsumu. “Don’t worry. I won’t be completely removing myself from the organization though. I’ll designate myself as the chairman, while someone with far more expertise takes over.”

“Who would that someone be?”

Kenma gives a sly smile. “Why him of course?” He trails his eyes at Atsumu’s knocked down chair, letting out a small and short snicker. With that, Kenma gracefully picked himself up and shrugged on his coat as he made his way to the door of the executive assistants’ room and informally concluding dinner.

“I’ll formalize the announcement soon, but until then you may keep the organization and flow of work as is. We’ll do the transition slowly.” Kenma stated. Waving off to the rest of the board, he called for Hinata and quickly left the room baffled.

That is except for one person- Atsumu.

“Kenma?” Hinata queried to the man seated on the passenger seat. “You didn’t have to do that, you know. It wasn’t-“ Hinata tightly gripped on the wheel, allowing the festered guilt to seep through the compressed edges of plastic.

“It wasn’t what Shoyo?” Kenma asked offhandedly as he stared into the dark abyss beyond the tinted glass.

“It wasn’t necessary.” Hinata admitted. He looked straight unto the road, watching the headlights lead the path of clear asphalt and tarmac.

“Why do you think so?” Kenma mused.

Eyes still fixated on the road, Hinata slightly bursted. “What do you mean Kenma? You’re the founder and CEO of one of the fastest growing volleyball and sports apparel. Shouldn’t you lead its helm ‘til the bitter end?”

“Do you mean lead it to its bitter end? Let’s face it Shoyo, I’m ill-equipped. The sooner we accept that, the better. Someone more qualified could take Bouncing Ball Corp to higher heights than I could. Plus-“ Kenma slipped a hand on Hinata’s thigh, sliding it towards the ball of his knee to give it a gentle squeeze. “I didn’t want work to get in the way of why I was even working in the first place.”

Hinata gulped, knowing what he meant and accepting the familiarity of the situation.

Unnoticeably, the car had slowed to a full stop in front of Kenma’s mansion. Beep. The automatic gates slowly lifted up just as Kenma’s hand slid slightly lower down the thigh. Hinata’s eyes narrowed on the hand, not bothered by its presence, but by what it meant. He scooped that hand up in his own and brought it to his lips all the while easing the car into the garage with practiced motions that could have only stemmed from experience. Maybe too much experience.

“You didn’t have to.”

Kenma took his hand from Hinata’s, cradling the surface that still had the moist traces of Hinata’s affection. He flitted his eyes back at Hinata, narrowing at him with much deliberation until he licked his lips wet and slick.

“I wanted to.”

Kenma breathed before he slowly made his way towards Hinata, testing if his assistant would want to defy him in any way. However, Hinata’s body simply reciprocated the motions, slowly closing the distance between them. Hinata’s calloused hands found cupped Kenma’s face as Kenma’s wiry ones held on Hinata’s. They looked longingly, analyzing and reassuring each other that this was fine, that this was okay, that this was love, before finally locking lips with one another like many times before. The smacker of lip-to-lip made audible reverberations against the shell of their ears as tooth found skin and tongue found tongue. They didn’t hold back, slipping, sliding, sucking and biting at each other’s surface to express the affection they wouldn’t be able to in broad daylight. However, they were soft and gentle too, remembering that they could never leave any sort of mark, aside from the marks made under the assurance of coverage of fabric. The smacker continued, hot and breathless.

Kenma was the first to break away, gasping for air as he rested his chin on Hinata’s shoulder and nuzzling in his scent. Hinata did the same, this time, digging his face unto the Kenma’s ombre locks that had escaped from the grips of his hair tie. The beautiful strands splayed nicely against Kenma’s lean back, coaxing Hinata to stoke it lovingly, play with and twist it between his fingers.

“Shoyo.” Kenma teased with a smile unseen, cherishing the warmth and playful touches of his assistant. Until he pulled away to catch his favorite sight.

Hinata was very used to Kenma’s advances and even the way he’d launch his kisses out of nowhere, but he had never gotten used to the effect Kenma had on him. From the slight touch of his nimble finger, the contact of his breath and, most especially, the cushion of his lips, all these things drove Hinata’s physiology crazy. To say a blush was the only thing perking up would be an absolute inaccuracy.

Kenma bursted into a laugh as the usual beam of sunshine had been frozen in his car seat, processing his feelings and his reactions once more like he would every night Kenma would do such a thing. Kenma smiled. “Shoyo.” This time he said it with much more endearment, a tenderness, a softness, a plain protectiveness.

The sound of his name fluttered the eyes of the assistant from his seat to Kenma’s beautiful and disheveled appearance- dress shirt two buttons too open, silky hair touching the exposed skin of his shoulder and lips and cheeks puckered with pink.

“Stay with me. Stay with me for the night.” Kenma said as he flickered his gaze from Hinata to the front door, gesturing the man to do what he would never do so many nights before.

On many nights, Hinata would consistently refuse Kenma and responsibly leave on foot towards his home. However, tonight wasn’t any night like many other nights before. Tonight was the night Kenma had finally made a decision about where their relationship stood for him. It wasn’t a trifle first love and it wasn’t a flirtatious office romance. No. For Kenma, it was more than that. It was for life. He wanted this for life.

Hence, just like that, the car port light flicked shut and the windows of Kenma’s home lit to life creating a bright yellow contrast to the sleeping landscape of the dark blue evening. This time Kenma was not alone and, maybe, his place would finally become a home for two.

* * *

It had happened so quickly. Akaashi had arrived home, still heavily flushed and a tad bit tipsy. Kita had been nice enough to drive him to his apartment and made sure that he would at least reach his genkan in one piece.

Akaashi huffed. _‘Maybe I should have offered him some water as thanks.’_ He looked longingly towards the kitchen, imagining what Kita would like after hours lounging his arms against the granite counter. Akaashi shook the thought immediately, taking note that Kita was his superior and would be respected even in his fantasies.

He ambled off to his bedroom, taking his time to pick his night wear and sauntered towards the adjacent toilet and bath. In the shower, Akaashi steadied himself with one hand against the wall, allowing his body to lean most of its deadweight on his arm. With only the pooling and trickling water on his sight, he went about lathering and rinsing himself, watching as the soap suds wash into the drain. He was inadvertently pre-occupied with what Kita had said or what Kita had done without him knowing.

Akaashi stepped out of the bathroom with a small waft of steam trailing behind. He dabbed his face with the ends of the towel draped on his neck repeatedly as he seated himself on the bed, still very much pre-occupied.

He sighed.

He was terribly flattered. In fact, blushing in flattery, to be more accurate, that Kita had seen him in such a light. A faint flush returned to Akaashi’s pale face as he recalled the way Kita looked at him, the way Kita laughed and, most especially, the way Kita said he wouldn’t let anybody do anything to him because he believed Akaashi was too good.

The very thought sends Akaashi falling on his back and curling into a ball as he fought a squeal that was finding its way out from the depths of the pitter patter of his heart. Akaashi was swooning and it made the thought of his promotion even gloomy.

“It’s not bad. In fact, it’s a rung up the corporate ladder, but-“

Akaashi unfurled himself allowing to completely lay flatly on his back once more as his two arms laid lax against the bed sheets. Eyes on the ceiling, he thought about his past 2 years under Kita’s tutelage. People thought Akaashi had been a wonder boy in that short span of time, climbing from merely being a trainee to Kita’s right hand in a matter of months. In mid-year assessments, Akaashi would be associated with words such as smart, self-sufficient and reliable. When in truth, to Akaashi, he felt he was more of lucky.

Akaashi was lucky that the first person he met was Kita.

Akaashi was a trainee at the time and it had been his first day. Decked with a plain white dress shirt and black tie and slacks, Akaashi joined the line of newly employed applicants in the room. The human resources manager at the time was a man named Sugawara Koushi. He had a gentleness while handling the recruits, leading them to their seats and maintaining a palpable pace through his orientation. His gray eyes were soft and kind, treating us like small chicks he was prepping for the world.

“That’s about it for the orientation. Let me take you to your new assignments where you will be met with your mentors.”

Shuffling of feet could be heard in the room as everyone lined up following Suga’s lead. That was until there was a boom. The entrance door was swung open by a lone figure who was panting breathlessly in the light. Sooner than later, I would find out that grey disheveled hair employee was Kita. The sight caught all of our attention. In a mere second, he straightened himself out, combed the stray strands of his hair and took a deep breath before speaking.

“I apologize for the intrusion Suga, but I am in need to pull one of these trainees with me for an emergency excursion.”

Suga raised a nervous brow, both taken by surprise and worried about throwing one of the newly inducted chicks into shark infested waters, especially if one of those sharks could possibly be Kita. “Well-“ He flips through his module and fingers the list of names. “Oh, one of them is bound for the management department anyway. He might as well get to know the head now.” Slam. Suga nervously smiles and turns to the chosen tribute, the wide-eyed and fresh- faced Akaashi Keiji.

Akaashi was a bit taken aback by the immediate thrust into action, but Kita wouldn’t have it. With much grace and sense of urgency, Kita was the one who stepped forward and took Akaashi’s hand offering little to no introductions, but a simple “Let’s go.” Just like that Akaashi was ushered into 3 site visits to their Miyagi retail shops, alone with Kita. In the passenger seat, he watched the road intently, not knowing anything else but where they were going.

“Sorry, I was rude there. I didn’t even bother to introduce myself. I am Kita Shinsuke, the prefectural manager for Miyagi.”

Akaashi’s head snapped back at the driver as he waved his hands against his chest. “Oh no. I was just taken by surprise. I’m Akaashi Keiji, the new employee for the management division.” Akaashi fiddled with the strap of his seatbelt.

From the corner of his eye, Kita saw the mannerism, finding it normal among new recruits and blatantly cute having it done by such a delicate-faced youth. He smiled. “Are you nervous?” He asked.

“A bit.” Akaashi admitted, averting his eyes from the man and hiding a slight blush. “I didn’t think I’d be sent to the field so quickly and I didn’t think I would be sent so soon with my boss.”

Kita lightly smiled at the last bit.

“Akaashi, please don’t feel shy around me. Talk and ask me freely. I already know you’re a trainee so I won’t give you anything you can’t handle.” Kita smiled softly facing the road, but hoping his words have reached Akaashi’s heart.

Indeed it did. Akaashi felt like a weight was lifted from his shoulders. Expectations have been settled and so was Akaashi’s anxieties. However, as soon as their foot hit the pavement, Kita’s offhanded gentleness had waned and morphed into cold professionalism. The soft curl of his lips had flattened to a line, the warmth of his eyes had turn ice cold and his voice had become permanently monotone.

Kita stepped into the building and the whole staffs’ eyes went alive. Akaashi followed closely behind Kita, watching how he juggled multiple discussions – retail management, sales branding and consumer statistics- in one breath. Kita’s caliber didn’t only rely on eloquence. He would run and so would Akaashi follow suit. They would do light jogs around logistical storage rooms, drop off and delivery bays checking the quality standards of facilities and procedures with a clipboard and pen always in hand. They would take to several staff members and review quarterly assessments, all the while checking in on the employees, how they felt, how they’ve grown and how they saw themselves years later.

Akaashi’s first day was a heady experience. He had been able to confer with heads of management of retail branches, to exchange numbers with sales managers and to contribute solutions to logistics committees regarding pick-up and deliveries all before he had any proper training. Actually what made it a head-aching experience was the thought of Kita being in the midst of it.

Being around Kita would be as close up as Akaashi would ever be to a man of capability, capacity and follow through. Hence, on the first day itself, he had associated most of his actions to Kita. _‘What would Kita do? What would Kita say? What would Kita think?’_ He desperately associated with what was proper with Kita and in doing so, unintentionally, caught the eye of the manager.

Kita saw this adorable mimicry happen before his eyes. It was then that Kita saw much potential in Akaashi. After that day, Kita would be the one to gravitate towards Akaashi, check up on him and question him. He treated him like an adult of his age and ranking, probing a missing boldness and confidence in the new recruit.

“Have you ever thought of reading Buckingham and Goodalls book on Management?”

“Have you watched the news on the financial stock market?”

“Have you questioned the administration’s take on foreign investment?”

Most of the time when Kita would mention such things, Akaashi would expectedly say no, but the probing did its job to pique his interest that he would inadvertently get to reading it. Without knowing it, Akaashi was silently being mentored by Kita, teaching him, probing him and emboldening him to form opinions of the business world. For that, Akaashi had been eternally grateful.

That’s why at present, still lounging on his bed, Akaashi had only mixed feelings of possibly leaving Kita’s side. He already had a good boss, he already had a good job and he already had a good pay. What more could he get from climbing up? Would he risk losing more in the aftermath of it all?

However, much like how Kita thrusted him into the work on day one, Akaashi was sure that Kita would say to him “I won’t give you anything you can’t handle.”

With that, Akaashi huffed and fixed himself up to sleep.

* * *

Creak.

The wooden door gently swung open as dark leather footsteps hit the gray marbled tiles. A tall figure emerged from the foyer carrying a suitcase in one hand and a box of rice balls in the other. He had dark grey hair and an even darker grey suit shrouded in a black overcoat. The tips of his coat was dripping wet.

“Why so late Osamu? Did your trip to Hyogo really take that long?”

Atsumu Miya said from the high vantage point of the balcony floor. Dressed in a loose white shirt and lounge pants, Atsumu eyed the figure, watching small pools he made in his wake. “Couldn’t you have dried yourself first before wetting the floor tiles?” He said pointedly, not expecting a response, but instead choosing to pitter patter through the stairs to meet him- his look alike brother.

Osamu Miya had settled standing before the black granite island, where he shrugged his coat on top of a bar stool’s back rest.

“Tch.”

The very gesture received Atsumu’s ire because it had done so well to display much of Osamu’s wide back, stretching fabric against cuts and swells of flesh. Osamu straightened his vest jacket and undershirt that had hiked up from the undressing, revealing a toned and sculpted midriff.

Atsumu wasn’t at all annoyed at his twin’s athletic build. After all, they were twins and kept the same exercises. Atsumu was more irritated at how Osamu went about showing that body of his. The thought of the many eyes Osamu caught acting the way he had with him in mere minutes only assure Atsumu that his brother had wound up in camera rolls of many young women of Hyogo.

Atsumu huffed. _‘What is it with disinterested men that make women swoon every time?’_

Atsumu, on the other hand, had no such thing as disinterest in his vocabulary. He would tackle things honestly, sometimes even brutally. _‘Maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing.’_ Atsumu snorted happily.

It was now Osamu’s turn to eye his brother as he raised a brow in mid-munch of a rice ball. “Am I missing something here? What’s the goofy smile for?” He said coolly as he finally took a bite into the glutinous sweet.

“You had me take over for you in the Miyagi meeting today.” Atsumu smirked.

“Ah.” Osamu answered, feigning realization with a slightly downturned lip. “Did you behave while I was gone?”

Atsumu scowled, looking from under his lashes. “Of course, Kita was there. Why wouldn’t I?”

Osamu smiled gently at the thought of Miyagi’s brand manager, imagining how he was on top of things as usual. Even on top of his brother.

“But-“ Atsumu cooed while he looked at a distance with trepid annoyance. “He was stuck by the hip with another guy. It drove me crazy how I couldn’t fully pull him away from checking in on him from time-to-time.”

Osamu’s eyes widened. “Huh?” And a smile slightly curled at the tips, ushering a curiosity for a contender against Atsumu for Kita’s affection. “So who’s the guy?” Osamu’s eyes lit up as he propped his elbow upon the black granite to support his little head.

“I didn’t ask his name.”

“What?” Osamu bursted out in laughter. “You’re telling me, you’ve met someone who could possibly take Kita away from you and you don’t even collect the bare minimum data of his name?” Osamu cackled booming the home with his incessant laugher. Atsumu embarrassingly nods.

Wiping a tear, he devilishly gave his twin a look. “This is why I’m the COO.”

“Fuck you Osamu!” Atsumu flicked a finger at him before he crossed his arms.

“Akaashi.” Atsumu said in a whisper.

Osamu raised a brow asking him to repeat.

“I think his name is Akaashi.” Atsumu angrily stammers.

 _‘Pretty.’_ Osamu thought. Then, from the corner of Osamu’s eye, he noticed Atsumu’s face fall.

This time, Atsumu’s face was serious and his eyes wandered against the floor tiles, aimless like his confidence. “He was really pretty. A raven beauty. I wouldn’t be surprised if Kita-“

“Whoa! Stop right there.” Osamu held a hand up and looked away from Atsumu’s pitiful face. “Little brother-“ He added to incite some form of irritation to divert the guy. “Please don’t make this a sob fest of the many ways Kita could do better. I assure you he can. He could.” Osamu said that last statement pointing to himself before throwing his hands up in the air as a surrender. “But he chose you so there must be something he saw that was so amazing about you. Okay. Period end of discussion.” He sassed.

Atsumu was frozen with a pink blush rising on his face as his brother turned away to stow the left over rice balls in the fridge. He didn’t give Atsumu a second look, knowing what effect his words had on him. Of course, he expected one thing though.

“Fuck you Osamu!”

Yes that was the thing.

He heaved a sigh, reassured that his brother was back into his usual mind. Atsumu is bad as he is. That being said, he’s even worse when spiraled into a depressive fit. Osamu mentally patted his back from avoiding another debilitating episode of Atsumu ranting and venting about his insecurities at the crack of dawn.

Osamu sauntered toward his bedroom, a dark grey enclosure with accents of red, cherry wood and gold or things that reminded him of Hyogo. He stashed his shoes away and made his way to the bathroom. In the landscape of cold blue tiles and gold linings, Osamu stripped himself of any fabric that had restrained him for the day. Unbuttoning one thing after the other and throwing them into the laundry basket.

He tilted his head. He looked into the full-body mirror of his bathroom, analyzing the surface of his skin and the curves of his physique. It was by all means necessary because for Osamu, keeping in shape had always been key in making sure Osamu was kept in many minds. That’s how most relationships and networks work. You catch their eye and keep them baited. He clicked his tongue satisfied that the rice balls would have little effect on him before making his way into the shower enclosure.

The water cascades through his dark tresses and trails through the swells and lines on his body. Osamu tilts his head up towards the showerhead, letting the water wash away any impurities from his face and relishing the momentary warm refuge it gave.

However, Osamu’s thoughts traced back to what Atsumu had said. There was a new guy in Kita’s sphere of influence. This guy was seemingly good enough to tick his twin off.

“I wonder-“ Osamu reached for the faucet handles, twisting the knob right cutting the water off. Dripping. His body still dripping with slithering liquid, he licked his lips and whispered “what does pretty look like?”


	2. Working Relationships

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Oh no. There’s no misunderstanding there. You are to be my executive assistant, but-“ Osamu purses his lips in a teasing gesture as he bellows with a low, mischievous voice. “I’d like to see how our relationship works before making anything permanent.”

“Is he here yet?”

Akaashi sinks into the armchair a little lower this time, scowling with furrowed brows. He pulls his wrist out to spot the time. _‘11 o’clock. 1 hour late.’_ Akaashi glances the open office space from side-to-side, eyeing the decadent decors and opulent furniture laid to waste in an unnecessarily large room. He pulls himself up from the depths of the seat cushion and indulges himself with a full 360 degree view of the place. From the top, the ceiling was installed with clandestine crystal chandeliers framed with gold and bronze accents. On the ground, the flooring was made with a dark green marble that was polished to mere perfection that one could fashion it as a mirror to spot even the slightest blemish. While, on the foreground where various dark mahogany wood furniture embellished with golden rungs, handles and locks designed in traditional Japanese motifs.

Akaashi’s eye did one more round of the opulent space and still there was still no sign of the fabled CEO he was supposed to meet. Akaashi huffs and bites his lower lip in worry. _‘Late on the first day.’_

A total span of 6 months have passed since Akaashi had been told that he’d been recommended as the executive assistant of the new CEO. It was a surprise dropped unto him by Kita and one he knew would be best not to refuse. All the while the news of his possible transfer was simmering, he and his team were on the works with the Alpha line, working day in and day out to establish the organization, design and campaign for it all. _‘However-‘_

Akaashi recalls how he had an in-depth discussion with Kita as the project was coming to a close last month. They had just closed deals with manufacturers and suppliers that day and were heading out for dinner. Just the two of them. Kita drove them to the downtown ramen bar where they settle in a small, secluded two-seater table, away from everyone else.

“How are you finding the work on the Alpha line?” Kita says before taking a sip of tea, silently eyeing the reactions of his subordinate.

“Oh it’s going well. I’m actually excited about the design phase for it.” Akaashi beams with a faint flush and a soft smile.

Kita lowers his teacup to the table. “I’m happy to hear that. This is the first time we’re giving reins on a collection launch to someone from management rather than product development.”

“Hm.” Akaashi thinly presses his lips, assessing what Kita meant by that. “I believe in respecting the expertise and designers of the project. In fact, I’d be willing to give them free rein, but-“ Akaashi props his head up with a hand thoughtfully, knowing his answer would be Kita than for himself. “I think when it comes to organization, a person with a management background would be apt for the job. A collection is more than just a product. It’s a process.” Akaashi cheekily wags a finger to his boss.

_‘There it is again.’_

The gesture merits Kita’s giggles as it softly penetrates their island of silence with little huffs. Kita’s face scrunches again, presenting Akaashi with the rare gift of the laughing-eyed, cheek high and loud mouth Kita. Kita was amused and he looked at Akaashi with easy-going eyes, eyes that were evidently tracing and following the lines and shapes of his young apprentice’s face. For some reason, Akaashi felt like Kita was burning him, burning him in his memory in this fabric of time and space. Then, Kita’s smile faltered into a half-hearted curl and his eyes slightly shifted away as if remembering that everything is only momentary.

“Unfortunately-“ He utters in some tone of foreboding, stirring a heavy lump in Akaashi’s chest. “This is a process you can’t see to the end.” Before, there was merely a door, a door they both knew had existed and had kept closed for so long. However, now, it seemed that door was left widely ajar so ajar that Kita had nothing but anticipation for Akaashi to finally step out.

Akaashi’s eyes soften and trail to the side, not wanting to see the face of Kita after having said those words. _‘At some point, you would have me leave. Is it so hard to imagine life with me by our side?’_

At that moment, the server came with their ramen bowls trailing with small wafts of steam. The two men perked up and bowed respectfully, mirroring each other in the process. While the discussion ended like that with the sound of soup slurping and noodle-biting, Akaashi couldn’t help but think that what had happened was some kind of break-up. It had all the awful trimmings and notions of letting go of someone who you had come to rely on, someone who you’d have come to know so well and someone who you have grown accustomed to in your life. His hear throbbed with a dull pain that threatened to take over his senses as he imagined not only stepping out that door, but seeing Kita happily holding it open for him to leave.

He lifted his gaze on Kita whose cute boyish looks were directed towards the warm meal. _‘Do you want me to leave Kita-san? Do you want me to leave so bad?’_ Slowly, Akaashi’s eyes landed on Kita’s lips, wet with oil and broth. They were lips he knew he would never get an answer from.

At that moment, Akaashi refocused on downing his own bowl of noodles, turning his gaze towards the heaping steam of soup. Thankfully, the obscurity of his face had given him a small refuge from where he could finally reveal the true form of his feelings. Small streaks of tears slowly plopped its way onto the broth, mixing salt and sadness for Akaashi to consume the whole night.

In the present, Akaashi settles his raven eyes on the beautiful panoramic glass view behind the CEO’s desk. The full wall window was one of the least gaudy things about the office and Akaashi stood from his seat to relish in the simple sight of Tokyo. The glazing of the glass allowed a soft daylight to seep through the office while displaying the vast glimmering steel towers, glass screens and green pockets of Tokyo from the 73rd floor. Akaashi smiled as he neared the glass making out his own reflection against the urban backdrop. He brought a nimble finger up and gently poked at his mirrored cheek, thinking maybe he would magically feel the touch too.

He giggled at the foolishness.

“Ahem.”

Akaashi was jolted from his stance and found a person who didn’t find the gesture as amusing as he did. The towering figure dressed decadently in a dark suit was Osamu. He stood with a certain confidence that amplified his height and physique, a certain intelligence that flickered with curiosity and a certain swag that intimidated with the smugness of his curled lip and brow. It felt like you couldn’t keep a man such as himself waiting.

“Oh sorry. I was-“

“Waiting. Yes?” Osamu interjected, eyes turning into fine slits as he narrowed on the tiny print made on his pristine glass. “I’m sorry I kept you waiting for so long. I had something to attend to, but I see you found ways to entertain yourself.” Osamu mused as he took to his seat.

Akaashi instinctively followed suit, returning cautiously to the armchair with furrowed brows and a lump in his chest about the tone of Osamu’s apology or the implication of his words. Nonetheless, that would have to wait because his undivided attention was demanded by the new pair of eyes that continued to faze him in the moment.

“Good morning, I’m Osamu Miya, the new CEO of the Bouncing Ball Corporation.” The man had finally said after much gazing. Osamu held his slightly tanned hand out, stretching the fabric of his dress shirt against the swells of his skin. In a mere second, Akaashi could tell the man took good care of his body. Even from such a seated position, Akaashi could make out the sharp silhouette and sculpted physique under the several articles of clothing. _‘Or maybe-‘_ Akaashi muses in his mind. _‘He was meant to be seen.’_ The young man entertains the thought that Osamu’s clothing was maybe a size smaller than it ought to be. Maybe that was a fashion or maybe that was a personal choice. Either way, Osamu’s appearance had done its job of catching Akaashi’s eye and steadily nurturing a faint blush.

“Good morning, I’m Akaashi Keiji, your new executive assistant from the Miyagi branch.” The young man manages as he refocuses his eyes on Osamu’s, finding it the only reprieve for anything visually assaulting.

Akaashi slips his pale delicate hand unto Osamu’s rough and calloused one, wrapping around his fingers gently before reciprocating a firm squeeze. While all this was happening, Osamu’s eyes were watching Akaashi carefully, surprised how soft his hand was to the touch. _‘This was a man-‘_ Osamu thought _‘who took care of his skin.’_ His dark eyes flitted to Akaashi’s face. It had a smooth, radiant and mild dewy glow associated with that of actors, idols and models.

Osamu’s eyes trailed on the profile of Akaashi’s nose, the subtle curve of his cheeks, the dip of his lips and sharp lines of his jaws. _‘The specs on this guy isn’t too shabby.’_ Osamu thought, surmising that maybe he would have an easier time than he thought with such a fresh face. _‘However-‘_ Osamu’s eyes flicked between Akaashi’s beauty to the stark plainness of his clothes. _‘That might be a problem.’_ Akaashi donned a simple white dress shirt and a simple gray overcoat. They were nice. They were neat. They were okay. However, they weren’t executive material. Yet, Osamu found the fashion amusing, like a nostalgia he couldn’t quite pin down on. _‘Why does this look seem so familiar?’_ He mused to himself.

Both parties shook, having sized each other up and written all the assumptions of each other in the mere millisecond offered by the contact.

“Oh. Regarding the Executive Assistant position-” Osamu coos.

“Have I misunderstood that I was to be your executive assistant?” Akaashi looked confused as his brows arched slightly and his lips pursed a little.

“Oh no. There’s no misunderstanding there. You are to be my executive assistant, but-“ Osamu purses his lips in a teasing gesture as he bellows with a low, mischievous voice. “I’d like to see how our relationship works before making anything permanent.”

Akaashi’s beautiful black eyes widen as his mind flicked between surprise, anxiety and doubt. He had expected to simply be appointed the position as he was chosen out of many recommendations. The thought of having to prove himself had caught him off guard, gurgling a swirl of unease in his chest. That was until he calmed himself down the best way he could-Kita. He remembered the soothing words uttered to him on day one. “I won’t let you do anything that you can’t handle.”

With that, Akaashi returns his stoic face and steels his nerves as he delivers his message with a clear and certain tone “I understand. I would also like to see how compatible we are at work.” He smirks.

“Good.” Osamu smiles, hiding a bit of surprise at the lack of confusion his statement had stirred. He leans forward, transferring his clasped hand unto his clandestine table to lift himself up. “Come, let’s have lunch.”

Unbeknownst to Akaashi, Osamu had seen him as a force even before the young man had stepped foot in the Tokyo headquarters. Akaashi’s name had echoed through the halls in soft whispers, office gossips and head-hunting spheres. The reasons for his popularity were many but they mainly boiled down to two things. First, he was generally a new employee. Two years was not enough to dash through the corporate ladder the way Akaashi did and yet, he was doing so without any connections, favors or bribes. However, being able to hold one’s own beside the likes of Kita for two whole years without breaking was surely a testament to the young man’s ability. Second, he was said to be a ravishing beauty.

Osamu’s eyes rolled as he thought of how, if not Atsumu, then many other colleagues have raved about his to-be-assistant’s pretty looks. People would remark on the qualities of Akaashi’s face, how his nose crinkled, how his brows naturally arched and how his lips had a slight pout even at rest. They would even offer to sneak a look at the young man’s social media, hoping to chance upon a new picture or information to offer to Osamu, but apparently Akaashi was not one to post. Osamu had to get his data some other way.

 _‘What better way than from the source itself?’_ Osamu thought.

They were seated in the front of the restaurant overlooking the street view. The place was a quaint Italian eatery situated on the ground floor of the company’s building. It was fashioned in olive green and pastel pink hues. Arches decked the entrances and exits and warm lights lifted the ambiance of the room. Osamu and Akaashi were seated in a maroon leather booth beside the storefront window.

Akaashi had his arms to the side, keeping his back perked up and his face towards the man on the opposite side. All the while, Osamu had both arms wide open, hanging on the seat’s head, as he gazed towards the activity on the streets. The juxtaposition and the tension in the air made it seem like they were two diametrically opposed forces.

Osamu was the first to break the silence, turning his attention to Akaashi and handing him a leather binder from the table.

“Let’s order first. What would you want from the menu? Don’t worry this is on the company.” Osamu smiles.

Akaashi thumbed through the menu, skimming through appetizers and thoughtfully staring at the main entrées. He hummed softly as his brain processed the new delicacies. All of them far too extravagant and unfamiliar from the local Japanese cuisines that he had with Kita.

“I’ll have the Chicken Pesto.” He muttered quickly.

“Is that all?” Osamu queried, coaxing Akaashi to take his time. “It’s all on the company after all.”

Akaashi shook his head. “That’s all. I’m not such a heavy eater.” After closing the binder, he slides across the table to Osamu who slightly frowned at Akaashi’s lack of appetite. Once the service came and went, Osamu resumed his conversation with Akaashi, hoping to figure out what was the big deal with this corporate wonder boy.

“Akaashi, tell me about yourself. Where are you from?” Osamu said as he clasped his hand upon the table.

“Sendai City of Miyagi.” Akaashi said flatly, irking Osamu at the lack of space to jump conversation from there.

“Oh!” Osamu coos. “I’ve never been to Sendai. I hear it’s particularly beautiful in the winter.” Osamu thumbs his lip, unknowingly earning the wide-eyed stares of many female onlookers.

“Yes. Sendai is well known for its winter resorts. I actually love going up there with family to go skiing.” Akaashi reminisces the memories that flow back into his head space. One memory of a young boy he met in one of the winter lodgings particularly fashion a smile on his face.

“Oh so you’re a skier. I never would have pegged you for one.” Akaashi was immediately jolted from his stupor. “I bet you were quite a looker to the ladies as you flew through the slopes.” Osamu teases as he pours water into his glass.

Akaashi slightly snickers. “Not really. How about you Miya-san? Where do you come from?”

“Please call me Osamu. My brother and I are both Miyas and I hate the confusion over it.” Osamu sips his glass of water before continuing. “Kobe City of Hyogo.”

Akaashi’s eyes widened just a little but enough for Osamu to catch on some interest.

“Have you ever been Kobe?” The executive raises a brow, feeling that he may have tapped on some unique interest.

“N-no but-“ Akaashi stammers, failing to cap the excitement spilling from his eyes. “It’s just Kobe is known for Himeji Castle and its hot spring resorts!” He claps his hands together as he comprehensibly runs through the architecture of Himeji Castle and the healing properties of known bath houses in the area.

All the while doing this, Osamu’s lips curl surmising the secret to Akaashi’s charm. _‘An honest and candid little nerd.’_ Osamu nods and hums to Akaashi’s stories and narrations of facts and fictions, humoring the man’s peculiar interest.

“Oh you like sightseeing and experiences.”

Akaashi’s lip curls as he proudly answers. “I like travelling in general.”

“Same. There’s something about going to a foreign place that puts life into perspective, doesn’t it?”

Akaashi nods. _‘Our first agreement.’_ Both of the parties hummed in their thoughts.

“Excuse me sirs.” The waiter appeared before them, hands full of dishes. The arrival of the food spurred the end of their conversation.

After they had said thanks, they dug into their meals, but not without the hyper awareness of each other’s presence. In the between bites and swallows, Osamu would watch over how Akaashi ate, how he would pick a fork and spoon and how he’d slice through meat. He was examining him and, to Osamu’s relief, Akaashi was more than a pretty face. He had quite the refined manners as well.

On the other hand, Akaashi had his gaze flit to Osamu time-to-time, whenever the other was busy picking at his meat. He’d catch the way Osamu would maintain his straightened out posture, how he’d swirl a glass of water and how he’d chew his food in certain bites, more than enough to savor the flavor but less than required to pack his mouth. His motions and movements oozed a certain culture that made Akaashi more self-conscious about how he operated, watching how his finger lifted a knife and brought food to his lips. Akaashi assumed that Osamu was most probably brought up that way.

In spite of the pressure one inflicted on the other, both parties found one thing pleasing. That was the fact that throughout their meal, no one made a move to start any sort of conversation. They both quietly hummed at the uninterrupted explosion of flavors and the company of someone who knew how to appreciate gastronomy the same way they did. Quietly.

Luncheon had ended. Osamu and Akaashi only restarted their conversation once they had wiped their dishes clean and withdrawn their fine cutlery.

“How did you like it?” Osamu asked.

“It was good. The pesto tasted great, but-“

Osamu was intrigued. “But?”

“I’d prefer my chicken a bit more moist. The juices were a bit lacking. Maybe it needed more time to marinate. Either that or less time baking in the oven.” Akaashi offered thoughtfully.

“I agree!” Osamu beamed as he was refreshed by Akaashi’s particularity with food. “I took a bite of my tenderloin and felt it was a bit too well done. Maybe if they added more lemon juices at the top, it would do better to preserve the moisture” Osamu mused, eliciting Akaashi’s approving nod and hum.

Maybe it was how well-mannered Akaashi was. Maybe it was because they shared their love of travel. Maybe it was Akaashi’s keen taste in food. Or maybe it was how Akaashi somewhat resembled someone. Whatever it was, lunch with the young man had made Osamu more open regarding his other interests.

Osamu playfully scowled, puffed out his chest and struck it as he smugly said, “I bet I can cook it better.” His dark eyes lit with mischief as he leaned forward to Akaashi whispering, “I bet I can even cook for half the price of this.”

The waning of Osamu’s condescending executive persona merited the mirth of Akaashi in the form of soft huffs and unrestrained curls on his delicate thin lips. Osamu noted that he was starting to see Akaashi’s appeal as the young man’s eyes elegantly crinkled and fluttered the wingspan of his lashes.

“Oh? When do you plan to prove such a point?” Akaashi throws back in low voice as he cheekily wiggles his brows.

Crossing his arms, Osamu challenges Akaashi. “When you’ve officially become my executive assistant.”

“I’ll do my best then to be permanently established by your side.” Akaashi retorts.

Before he knew it, Osamu simply said, “Shall we continue this upstairs?”

The journey upstairs was a silent one. On the way up, Osamu had thoughtfully considered Akaashi, placing verdict upon verdict about the potential costs and benefits of the man. To Osamu’s own surprise it seemed quite on the upside.

 _‘Pretty. Though looks weren’t necessary for the job, it does help to have a fresh-face to smoothen things out especially with public relations. Smart. The fact that Kita highly recommended him can only mean he’s quick on the pick-up. However-’_ Osamu slightly scowled as he glanced from the corner of his eyes the white dress shirt that crumpled too easily and the overcoat that you could buy from any apparel store _. ‘Plain.’_ Osamu decides. _‘He does need some help dressing as he should and-‘_ Osamu’s pursed his lips as he remembered how their luncheon developed. _‘Maybe some help with conversation-making and culture too.’_ There was more to Kobe than castles and hot springs. _‘But-‘_ Osamu’s lip curls a little as he remembered how Akaashi humored him with his review of the food. _‘He isn’t that bad.’_

Osamu and Akaashi had arrived on the executive floor. Osamu ambled towards his office door and Akaashi trailed behind him. However, in a second, the younger man was taken aback at the near collision that his nose would have met with Osamu’s back as the executive’s body had abruptly stopped in mid-step.

Akaashi was confused and peeked from behind the shoulders of Osamu. Together, both men’s eyes widened as they beheld a lone figure waiting in the office. Kita Shinsuke.

* * *

Osamu was unlucky. He was unlucky because, the moment he was brought into the world, he had to take care of Atsumu.

In the advent of spring, when cherry blossoms were cascading through the wind and carpeting the stone paths, Osamu was exploring the wild groves and patches along Samaura Park in search for his brother, who had deviated from their plans.

“When I get my hands on that Atsumu-“ The young Osamu would mutter under his breath as he pushed foliage against foliage to make way for himself in the dense thicket of green where he heard soft voices whispering. Slightly scraping through pliable branches and accidentally stomping on innocent flowers, Osamu had finally pushed through the hedge-like undergrowth, falling head first into the dark and dim world under the hydrangea bushes.

“Who is that?” Osamu heard as he pulled the rest of his body through the green portal and squinted in the darkness.

The undergrowth was slightly lit with tiny holes of sunlight peeking between the darkness. It was through the tiny specks of light wells that Osamu could faintly make out two figures in the dark, huddling on the opposite side of the hydrangea bush. Osamu could have sworn one of them was Atsumu and didn’t waste any time. Clicking his tongue, he willed himself up in spite of his soreness and trudged towards the figures. One of them was protecting the other, holding an arm out and facing Osamu head on. Osamu surmised that the boy behind the other was Atsumu. _‘Who else would be afraid of me now?’_ Osamu thought.

Quickly, Osamu heftily knocked the other figure to the dirt with a single swing of his hand, making sure not to hit the face, and took Atsumu’s hand by the wrist.

“Osamu!”

“I don’t care what you have to say. Whatever it is, say it to mom and dad.” Osamu muttered as he elbowed through the hydrangea flowers, pushed through the branches and carelessly dragged the second body behind him. Osamu shielded his eyes as he reacquainted them to sunlight and spotted the scrapes and scratches all over his legs. “Ugh!” He felt a tug at his hand. _‘Atsumu! That hardhead is still trying to get away.’_ He scowled, turning his head to shoot a flurry of swears.

“Atsu-“

That was until he realized, his brother never looked that cute.

The pale wrist he held unto so tightly was that of a young boy whose hair was slightly gray and whose eyes had a deep, magnetic pull. The young boy gazed scornfully at Osamu as his little grubby hands tugged desperately at his fingers to let go. Osamu quickly did after realizing his mistake.

“I’m sorry!” He yelped.

The sudden release sent the young boy falling on his buttocks with an audible thump. “Oh are you okay?” Osamu asked as he bent over the young boy’s body, realizing that he was as equally scraped and scratched up as Osamu. Osamu’s lips pressed into a thin line as he could guess that he was more at fault than the hydrangea bush was.

“Osamu you idiot!” The head of his look-alike had finally popped out from behind the foliage. “You hurt Kita!” Atsumu shouted as he was on all fours carefully crawling by his new friend’s side. The boy named Kita shot a dirty look at Osamu, flitting his eyes between the wreckage of the hydrangea and the cuts on his knees.

Osamu creased his brows in concern and bowed repetitively to Kita as he kept his eyes on the ground, avoiding sight of the slight blood seeping from the scratches he inflicted on the boy. Osamu swallowed the taste of guilt in his mouth. “It’s okay.” Osamu heard. It was brief, but comforting. It was enough to relief to ease the boy to lift his gaze. However, once he did, that was the moment Osamu saw Kita’s eyes, cold and unnerving, and learned that Kita had written off Osamu as a bad person. 

Osamu was unlucky. He was unlucky because that was how Kita first met him.

That day, Osamu had learned that Atsumu spotted Kita from afar. Apparently, Kita was a boy at their school, but a boy Osamu paid little attention to, unlike Atsumu. Atsumu claimed he immediately recognized the boy and followed him as he was chasing a squirrel throughout the park. That was the point Atsumu deviated from the path and went on a wild goose chase trailing Kita and his new pet.

However, at some point in the chase, Kita had disappeared from Atsumu’s line of sight leaving him confused and in disarray. He was sure he had followed the boy closely so he approached the last spot he saw him, glancing all over his surroundings to only find no trace. Atsumu was at the point of resignation until a pale hand had grabbed him from behind, pulling him through the green portal under the hydrangea.

Atsumu would never admit it, but Kita, later on, would say he did yelp, falling butt first into the ground. However, with a light tap on his shoulders, Kita was able to dispel most of Atsumu’s fear the moment he held a finger to his lips and pointed at the other side of the hydrangea. Under the speckled light, was a small family of squirrels carrying food that they had taken out to feed their young ones.

Kita later explained to Atsumu that many of the squirrels were being eaten by owls and crows preying by the park. The small spaces under the hydrangea bushes was safe enough for squirrels to harbor their food and young.

In that small span of time, Atsumu and Kita bonded over their fondness of watching squirrels find sanctuary in the dark. That was, of course, until the squirrels scattered at the branch-breaking sound of their home being invaded by Miya Osamu.

Since then, back at school, Atsumu had been keenly interested into Kita. Oddly enough, so was Osamu. The twins had slowly wormed themselves into Kita’s peaceful life, running to him first thing in the morning, inviting him to eat together and having him join their games and parlor tricks. Bit by bit, the twins had warmed to Kita and became a part of his every day.

However, Kita would always favor sticking close to Atsumu, listening to his stories and laughing at his jokes. Osamu had written it off as natural. Wouldn’t anyone gravitate to the first person they became friends with? However, Osamu realized things that Kita did to and for Atsumu was exclusively for Atsumu.

It would be small things such as how Kita would offer to wait with Osamu for Atsumu, no matter how late it would get, or how Kita would feed Atsumu the first bite of his home made bento while he simply offered the food of Osamu to take. It was the selectiveness of these little things than the little things themselves that irked Osamu the most.

However, later on in high school, there was one place that Osamu did find solace amidst simply being the plus one to Kita and Atsumu. That place was the library.

In the library, Kita was, for once, without Atsumu. The holy grail of education and learning was the younger Miya’s weakness so Kita had left him to how own devices while he furthered his studies. Amidst the many long tables that were scattered around the floor, Kita would always be drawn to the table with an already seated Miya Osamu.

Osamu was busy, too busy to notice Kita’s presence. Kita offhandedly shrugged the gesture, finding it comforting that someone was as serious as he was in his academic work. He smiled as he sat across Osamu who, for once, worn his black-rimmed lenses on his face. He always seemed so embarrassed about having to wear specs, afraid that it made him look a tad bit nerdy. Kita was amused as he cradled his head with a hand, trailing his eyes on the bespectacled boy before him. Osamu’s glasses were slightly skewed as he tilted his head towards his textbooks, scribbling across page after page on his notes.

“They make you look more intelligent, you know.” Kita candidly muttered, catching Osamu’s attention.

“Ah Kita.” The boy swipes the specs from his face while he caps a growing blush on his face.

Years have elapsed like that. Though there was much Kita and Atsumu, there was at least this space where there could just be Kita and Osamu. By sharing hobbies, interests and preferences that would never dawn on Atsumu, the two gravitated towards each other to create such a friendship.

Kita and Osamu were both quiet and reserved, opting not to say a word unless it was necessary. It was this sameness that allowed them to understand each other quickly, read the subtle expressions of their face and communicate nuances that would often go undetected to many others. The quiet of the library was appropriate for them. However, when their stomachs would grumble, they were not reproachful to exploring food. Kita and Osamu both exchanged wide grins as they pulled out lunchboxes unto the table. This was the time they would trade their latest gastronomic creations at home. Kita brought a traditionally made katsudon and Osamu had brought his take on a teriyaki chicken. They would stretch the chopsticks across the tables as they took bits and pieces from each other’s meal, silently judging the flavor and texture as they chewed.

It was in moments such as these that Osamu had found himself slowly falling for the quiet boy across the table as he gave his review of Osamu’s cooking. He was not afraid to criticize, but not shy from praise as his eyes morphed from thin slits to wide orbs with his expressions. His cool-headed words and grounded tone of voice lulled Osamu into a trance, relishing the mere interaction. It was in these things that Osamu had his heart swoon slowly but steadily through the years.

It was also in these moments that Osamu recognized that it would never last. They were in their third year of high school and they were due to take their entrance examinations.

“Hm?” Kita cooed, intrigued by Osamu’s unusually thoughtful demeanor. When it came to food, Osamu was more alive than anyone else. “Is something the matter?”

Osamu’s brows furrowed. “I was just thinking-“ He said as he rested his face on his two hands. “We’ll be graduating soon and there won’t be much time together anymore.”

Kita’s eyes softened, reading into the creases and crinkles of Osamu’s face. “Yeah.” Kita looked away, turning towards the direction of many other students frolicking and occupying the space of the library. Many of them were third years such as themselves and many of them won’t be seen again, much like Osamu.

“You’re aiming for a university in Tokyo, huh? “

Osamu nodded.

“This is the best time to do all the things that you need to do and to say all the things you need to say.” Kita remarked with a certain sage wisdom that Osamu could only guess came from experience.

Ping.

Both Osamu and Kita’s eyes widened at the startling sound. It was uncharacteristic of Kita to have left his phone’s ring on. It was even more uncharacteristic that he all of a sudden needed to disappear for a while, leaving his things with Osamu to guard.

In that moment, Osamu pondered on what Kita had said, flicking through argument after argument about whether or not to finally confess his feelings to his friend. _‘I should tell him.’_ Osamu thought as his eyes land on the splayed textbook before him, familiar with how he had dipped himself into pages such as these to better himself, much like he’d been bettering himself for Kita. Osamu recalls late evenings studying that merited him a place in the top ten of the class, early mornings jogging around the neighborhood to keep a tight physique and long afternoons spent helping out the student council members such as Kita just to gain as much attention from the guy as much as he had given Atsumu. _‘If anything-‘_ Osamu concluded. _‘I more than good enough for Kita.’_

Ping.

Osamu was jolted out of his reverie when his phone beamed a text from Kita asking if he would like to cut studying short and go out for dinner with Atsumu. Osamu smiled texting “Sure.” With that, he quickly gathered Kita’s things and hefted the two bags on both of his sides. His shoulders were heavy, but his heart was light as he finally absolved to tell Kita by the end of the day.

As he exited the gates of the library, Osamu had spotted the two dipped in the afternoon sunlight. He waved and hollered signaling his presence as he ran up closer to them. However, as each step neared him to his brother and friend, Osamu’s smile had slightly waned. Much like a while ago, Kita was being uncharacteristically himself. His pale hand was tightly intertwined with Atsumu’s, grasping and fiddling for more skin to touch. The image sent a blare of fire and electricity through Osamu’s synapses as they processed what that contact had meant in a millisecond. Little by little everything made sense from the moment Osamu met Kita under the hydrangea bush.

Rejection neither has to be the blatant no in a confession nor the witnessing of another’s declaration of love to the beloved. Sometimes rejection can be like this. It can be the small things, the small things that were never done to you, that have compounded over time to only and finally make sense at the last point of connection.

Osamu was unlucky. He was unlucky because he fell in love with someone who had and always would choose Atsumu.

* * *

“Kita, what are you doing here?” Osamu said as he pushed open the doors to his office.

The young man decked in a familiar white and crisp dress shirt stood, extending a hand to Osamu as a gesture of greeting. Osamu smirked, finding the formalities absolutely unnecessary, but obliged to Kita anyway. After all, even a love rejected doesn’t stop you from loving at all.

“For an urgent matter.” Kita said seriously as he shook Osamu’s hand. Before Kita could continue, he spotted a black tuft of hair trailing behind Osamu that caught his attention. The owner of the black tresses peeked from behind with an excited wide-eyed stare.

“Kita-san?” The voice squeaked.

From his usually somber expression, Kita’s face immediately lifted up a little in the form of a gentle smile and slightly crinkled eyes. “Akaashi.” He muttered fondly as his eyes followed his former apprentice’s movements towards him. He extended a hand all the same.

Akaashi slipped his hands over his, briefly find pleasure in the familiar touch, before reciprocating the gesture with a shake.

Osamu watched the nuanced touch before his eyes, flitting between Kita and Akaashi with crossed arms. As he continually watched both sides exchange pleasantries, he couldn’t help but notice an uncanny mirroring of the two men, a sameness that Osamu could not particularly point out until his eyes trailed unto Kita and his crisp white dress shirt. His brows hiked a bit higher when he confirmed his suspicions with Akaashi’s own crisp white dress shirt. To make the matter worse, they both had similar plain overcoats, practical but not fashionable. Osamu rolled his eyes. _‘Kita, is Akaashi more than a subordinate?’_

Osamu capped the thought as he found the need to intervene the happy reunion. “So what is this urgent matter, Kita?”

The question caught the attention of the two, breaking them apart once again. Kita gestured Osamu to the couch saying, “Please, have a seat first.” Osamu obliged while Akaashi chose to approach the bar of the office where he would fetch two cups and tea.

“Have you checked the news in the past hour?” Kita queried.

“No. The last time I read the news was this morning. Why?” Osamu posed as he accepted Akaashi’s hand of green tea.

“Thank you Akaashi.” Kita graced his hands on the small dish, fingers lightly brushing against fingers eliciting a faint blush from Akaashi. It was blush too apparent for Osamu to dismiss that it only confirmed his growing suspicions. Kita smiled and nodded, gesturing Akaashi to take his side by Osamu. The young man complied, sinking into the leather seat across Kita.

“It’s regarding Kenma.” Kita says after a sip. “Tabloids had gotten pictures of Kenma and his assistant, Hinata, slipping in and out each other’s residence.”

“We would still write that off as deniable.” Osamu raised a brow, all too familiar that what Kita had brought was not just mere gossip mongering.

Kita rummages through his pockets for his phone, lightly tapping on the screen with a single digit until the device blares white. Kita holds up the screen for Osamu and Akaashi to behold. “A tabloid had just released a headline and photos of Kenma and Hinata kissing in their residences. It’s a collection of shots seen through their window.”

Osamu grabs the device “How clear are the photos? Is it possible to say it was a case of mistaken identity?”

“No. The digital images are crystal clear.” Kita reports.

“Damn these paparazzi and their equipment!” Osamu grumbles under his breath as he returns Kita’s phone to him. “This will affect the stocks, public image and the release of the Alpha line, but-“ Osamu sharply eyes his colleague across him. “It’s the Alpha line you’re most concerned about, isn’t it Kita?

Akaashi’s ears perked up at the sound of his beloved project, flickering his gaze unto his former boss who was now hunched up on his seat with a grave expression. “Stocks and public image are things we can recover through PR and time. However, the money already invested in the Alpha line is another thing. If we release Alpha line with this kind of image, it might destine the collection for failure.” The states as a matter of fact.

“The company is going to get heavily hit with criticisms and consumer rebuffs. We need to do some damage control before we release anything. Kita, I’m sorry, but let’s postpone the Alpha line’s launch. We’ll incur some losses, but not as great as a loss of destroying everyone’s effort in a failed release.” Osamu proposes.

“That and we also need to protect Kenma.” Kita adds, already resigned to the thought. However, though unseen to Akaashi, Osamu catches the microsecond Kita flicks his apologetic gaze to Akaashi. Wishing Akaashi would see, but not hoping, Kita breaks his stare.

“Have PR called Kita. We need to sweep this issue under the rug.” Osamu says, bringing his colleague back to reality.

“Wait.” Two eyes blinked at Akaashi who had all of a sudden spoke up. He had been facing downward, narrowing on his lap, throughout the past minute. Kita had assumed it was out of dejection from the possible delay of the project, while Osamu waved it off as rookie behavior. Nonetheless, the boy now spoke up with an uncanny thought. “Do you have to sweep it under the rug?”

 _‘Our first disagreement.’_ Both parties thought.

Osamu slightly flinched back and cocked his head to the side, mentally questioning once again if Akaashi was worth it as an assistant if he spoke so candidly. “Akaashi-“ He began like an exasperated parent to a child. “Our country is highly conservative and traditional about these things. At the mere rumor of same-sex relations, an individual’s life can go down the drain. You’ve seen it haven’t you?” Osamu flips his hand out, displaying the imaginary array of men and women ostracized in society due to homophobia. “It doesn’t matter if you were a genius or a world-class performer, society gets to decide how far you’ll go and to get into the good books of our country’s society, that means staying heterosexual.”

Akaashi’s face rumpled as he prepared his own rebuttal in his head, picking from his own arsenal of words deliver his point.

“Tell me Akaashi-“Osamu looked hard on his to-be- assistant. “Do you want our company publicly ostracized by this country?” Osamu said, narrowing his eyes on Akaashi’s with much intensity.

Akaashi gulped. The situation had only polarized the stark differences between Kita’s leadership and that of Osamu’s. Kita had been the type of superior to allow Akaashi to speak freely, in fact, to the point of encouraging it. It was this care and coddling that Akaashi was now confronted with the foreign experience of a superior that needed stands and propositions fought for.

“What I mean to say-“ Akaashi stammers as he flits his eyes between Osamu and Kita. “The Japan you’re talking about is the old Japan. The Japan that hasn’t been as educated or exposed to such topics and discussions. However-“ Akaashi pauses estimating the wax and wane of expressions on the two men’s face. “The Bouncing Ball Corporation was not built for the market of old Japan. No. We were designed and founded on providing for the needs of the young Japan.” He took a breath. “That means standing by the new values, principles and patterns of the youth as well as topics that punctuate their lives, such as sexuality.”

Osamu’s stare softens a little and Kita nods encouragingly.

Akaashi takes another sharp inhale and bolsters himself with more thunder to his words. “What I’m saying is-“ He narrows intently on Osamu. “Instead of addressing this as a problem to kick out of the way, we can take this as an opportunity to carve a niche for ourselves in the young market as the forward thinking athletic apparel company.”

Osamu huffs as he sinks into his backrest. “That’s all very poetic Akaasihi, but how do you propose to concretely do this?” He says as he cocks an eyebrow.

Without missing a beat, Akaashi says “Through the Alpha line.”

Both men looked at each other with mouths agape, not completely comprehending Akaashi’s words. The young man asserts again. “We’ll pivot the campaign of the Alpha line to address the many faces of the new Alpha. The Alpha isn’t just the heterosexual man and woman playing at the top their game. It’s also the lesbian, the gay, the bisexual, the trans and the queer men and women who forward the game that are Alphas. By doing this, we can create massive media explosion for the brand, stay true to our code of service and protect Kenma.”

Kita beams a soft smile at Akaashi, nodding in approval once again. “I agree with Akaashi.” He interjects, unknowingly filling the young man with warmth across his cheeks. “I think this is a better approach than affirming to the mass media that same-sex relations is wrong. Moreover, it will give us clout for the Alpha line as well as new consumer trust and following. I think we should go for it Osamu.”

Osamu still pressed into his seat, thinly pulls his lips into a line, considering, but not completely convinced of the idea. He flicks his eyes between Akaashi’s and Kita’s. He inhales a sharp breath after having made his decision. “Fine.” Akaashi and Kita expressions life in mid-celebration until Osamu adds “But-“ The two men focus on Osamu, anticipating his condition.

“I want Akaashi to lead the helm of it.”

“What?” Kita turns, querying Osamu’s sudden mismatch of assignments. “Akaashi is your assistant and he doesn’t need to worry about the groundwork.”

“No Kita.” Osamu lifts a hand in the air, silencing the man. “It’s Akaashi’s idea. It should be Akaashi ensuring it becomes a success.” He smirks. “Talking about opportunities, let’s use this opportunity as an assessment whether you’re fitting to be my executive assistant. What do you say, Akaashi?”

“Osamu, it was already decided-“

“It’s okay Kita.” Akaashi interjects. “I agreed to Osamu-san’s terms that I would be temporary until proven worthy by him.” Akaashi turns his gaze to Osamu, sizing up the party. “I accept the challenge Osamu-san.” Akaashi says with much certainty now that he had, at least, Kita’s support for it.

“Good. You’ll start working on it tomorrow.”

That day Akaashi learned that Osamu was not only a boss who one had to stand up to, but also one who you had to prove yourself to. He wouldn’t take a speech by face value. No. He would make sure you were accountable for whatever you said. _‘Terrifying.’_ Akaashi thought as he saw the broad back of Osamu walk Kita out of the office. Unlike his first day with Kita who held his hand and talked him through the steps, Akaashi felt his first day with Osamu was constant wrestling of forces. Akaashi would only get up to get hit back down.

_‘If this is a preview of what’s to come, I’m not sure I would want to stay to watch the whole show.’_

His train of thought lost its tracks when he noticed Osamu finally giving his farewell to Kita. “Akaashi.” Kita turned to the young man, brimming with a certain pride for how well his former apprentice had took to the meeting. He holds out his hand to gesture a shake and Akaashi more than obliges. However, in mid-shake Kita pulls Akaashi closer, close enough to brush his lip to the young man’s ear, coaxing a slight shiver through Akaashi’s spine. “Good job.” Kita whispers, before pulling away and completely letting go.

Kita breaks away from Osamu and Akaashi, looking doleful. Akaashi watches carefully as Kita offers one more wave before disappearing behind the gold clad shutters of the elevator shaft. Akaashi was still in love, but it was love in the context of working beside Kita, the very person who ushered Akaashi out the door. 

Akaashi looked at his delicate, pale hand, eyeing the invisible traces of warmth from his last shake with Kita. He brushes his finger against his palm relishing the hints of heat, before it had finally hit him. Though he knew he still nursed affections for Kita, Akaashi had a lit path to walk together with Osamu now. Wherever that path would lead, that would be his new context now. He wasn’t sure Kita belonged there with him too.

“So-“ Osamu begins, having silently watched the exchange and making his own conclusions.

Akaashi was jolted out of his stupor. “So?”

Osamu smirks, leaning into his waist while his hand gripped on his side. “Don’t you think all of this was unnecessarily irresponsible?”

Akaashi cocks a brow at Osamu. “What do you mean?”

“I mean trading off corporate stability for office romance.” Osamu pokes, seeing if he could get a rise out of Akaashi and testing his suspicions.

“I don’t think I agree with that. It is Kenma-san’s and Hinata-san’s personal lives. The media shouldn’t have anything to do with that.”

“And yet, here we are controlling the damage that’s been done. Does that mean-“

Akaashi flashes a questioning brow at Osamu again, slowly bordering irritation. “You would choose love over work someday?”

The question catches Akaashi off guard as he never ever thought of having to sacrifice one for the other, as for the past years, his love was where he worked. However, Akaashi recalls how he, himself, walked out of the door of possibilities with Kita on the day he accepted the appointment as Osamu’s assistant. The answer was simple. “No. I don’t think I ever would.”

Akaashi quickly glances to the side, wanting to distract himself from sad memories and spots the teacups left on the coffee table in the office. He sputters an excuse to Osamu to take care of it and leaves the executive’s side.

All the while, Osamu nods, amused that he had discovered a new pressure point on Akaashi and maybe a kindred spirit in him. _‘Interesting.’_ He says as instead of Kita, Osamu starts seeing more of himself in him.

* * *

Hours later, on the other side of Tokyo, Kenma is half naked on the sofa. His figure is obscured in the shadow by the blaring light of his wide screen television, displaying recent news and scandals. On the top of the screen in bright, bold, red were the words Chairman in Gay Relationship. A montage of photos and videos appear on screen displaying the faces of Kenma Kozume and his partner Hinata Shoyo for the whole nation to see.

A young newscaster sensationalizes the whole thing using words such as crass, vulgar and immoral as she narrates their story through their homophobic lens. Kenma does an eye roll but not without taking a glance back to their bedroom door left ajar.

From the vantage point of the living room, Kenma could see that Hinata was still naked and fast asleep on the bed. He watched the steady rise and fall of his chest and subtle wafting of the sheets under his nose. It gave Kenma some reprieve that, at least, he could control how Hinata would receive the news and they could absolve the whole issue before the young man had to confront it.

_‘Easy peasy.’_

Or so he thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed the chapter. Lowkey was falling in love with Kita as I was writing this. Oof that boy is too good! Anyway, for those who want to get into the Akakita feels some more, I suggest listening to these songs. I just made myself cry a bit harder.
> 
> Dear Matias- Galdive  
> Changes- Jeff Bernat  
> Around- NIKI


	3. The Dinner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Atsumu huffed while flicking between Osamu and Kita, watching as his brother had such an effect to warrant lively expressions on Kita’s face. It was such a special sight that it could only elicit an ugly, green fire in Atsumu’s chest. He wouldn’t have any of this Osamu- Kita time

The mirror-like golden doors of the elevator shaft open to reveal Miya Osamu dressed in a navy blue pin-striped suit, carrying a cup of coffee in one hand and a tablet in another. He immediately meets stark, dark eyes to the receptionist, Aone Takanobu, silently asking the question that he’d always ask for the past weeks. “Where’s my assistant?” Aone fixes his direction towards Osamu’s office door. He nods curtly at Aone before finally uttering a “Good morning.”

With a single hand to the dark, wood door, Osamu pushes through the entranceway revealing an Akaashi straightened and seated on one of his couches, typing a way. The young man gets to his feet, hardly startled anymore, and follows Osamu’s to his desk. In a perfunctory tone, he goes through the procedure of greeting and going through the long list of appointments for the day.

Over the past weeks, Osamu and Akaashi had fallen into a kind of routine. In the morning, Osamu would come straight to the office, where he would find Akaashi who’d greet him with the daily to-do. He’d listen while communicating much of his opinions in mere gestures. Akaashi had grown familiar with the expressions of the CEO- how he hummed in approval or how he clicked his tongue with displeasure. It had come to a point that Akaashi had been able to anticipate his reactions. A simple crossing of his arms told him he was cold. A slight narrowing of his eyes meant he was hungry. The grazing of his lips meant he was too busy thinking. It all sounded quite nice as Akaashi seemingly had a hand of dealing with his boss. However, knowledge of such nuances wasn’t one-sided. To much of Akaashi’s ire, Osamu and he were so much alike that. They had fallen into a silent banter of body language.

Osamu could tell when Akaashi had something to say, but hesitated by the slight parting of his lips. He could surmise how Akaashi didn’t like Greek cuisine by the way his nose would scrunch at the acidity. He could tell Akaashi was tired by the fidgeting of his fingers. Most of all, he could tell Akaashi was still pre-occupied about an unrequited love by how he gazed at his reflection at the window.

They both recognized this telepathy they shared and used it to their advantage to cut the time from wasting words. Whether they like it or not, they weirdly gravitated to each other somehow even if that brought with it ice and fire.

Osamu raised a hand. Akaashi fell silent as if by command, waiting expectantly for Osamu’s interjection.

“Tell me-“ He begins, cocking a brow at Akaashi this time. “How’s the work for the Alpha line?”

Since their first meeting, Akaashi had been placed as the head of the Alpha line while balancing his executive work as Osamu’s assistant. To say that the work was difficult would be an understatement. He had mistakenly flung himself in an unprecedented position on day one. However, it wasn’t his first time to be challenged on the onset of work.

For all the grueling work put before him, he had managed to maintain balance in accomplishing tasks for the project and for Osamu. It was done with some help of course. The image of his former boss, Kita, flashes across Akaashi’s mind as he recalls extended late nights at the Tokyo headquarters. Holing up in a small room, exchanging data and stories and feeding on the power of caffeine, Kita and Akaashi had fallen back into their old habits- spending a delirious amount of time together. Unfortunately, in spite the many opportunities to bear fruit from such interactions, they would most often come to nothing.

However, the reason being was not what it seemed. Akaashi eyed Osamu suspiciously. Though it was expected that Osamu would inquire regarding the research and redevelopment phase, the CEO was oddly interested in Akaashi and Kita’s work specifically. He would drop by their holding room unexpectedly to check up on the two men, making sure to squeeze in between them on the conference table. He would spontaneously join them on their excursions, taking Akaashi’s spot in the passenger seat denying that it wouldn’t be safer to sit at the back. He would even uncouthly take a bite from homemade meals Kita would offer to Akaashi in between breaks, aggravating his assistant to no end. It was all very frustrating for the raven-haired young man that he had conjured up his own theories about it.

One of them was that Osamu may have a crush on Kita too. It was the only explanation for his hijacking behavior and Akaashi wouldn’t place it below him to do so. He seemed the type to ruthlessly pursue the object of his desire.

Akaashi sighed before flitting to his notes to mask his long drawn annoyance.

“Good. The redevelopment for the Alpha line’s campaign is going according to plan and we can soon start the photoshoots next week. The creative team and I will start coordination on it this week.”

“I see. So that means-“ Osamu said pausing quite a little, hesitant about how Akaashi would take what he would say. “That we can send Kita back to Miyagi.”

The thought never occurred to Akaashi. He had expected that Kita would stay by his side throughout the whole project. Letting Kita leave now made Akaashi’s stomach lurch and drop into a pit. Much like what he felt on his first day with Osamu, Akaashi felt overwhelmed. Kita was one of the few things that stabilized him as he transitioned as Osamu’s assistant. Now, if Kita were to leave, Akaashi was afraid he would truly be alone again.

“Shouldn’t he stay on with me? After all, he led the redevelopment strategies with me.”

Osamu’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly, analyzing the nuances on Akaashi’s face that were being made apparent. The young man’s eyes glanced side-to-side as his mouth adjusted from being agape to being shut now and then. It was a clear indecisiveness whether to defend his point further or to allow Osamu’s final verdict.

Unbeknownst to Akaashi, Osamu knew too well that it was more of his wanting to hang on to as much of Kita as he could because Osamu did that once too. He knew what it was like to hold out, hoping one’s love would at least grasp one’s fingertips, to only be met with the faint dust and wind. He knew too well. Hence, he knew he needed this self-compelled farce ended.

“No.” He said with an even and flat tone, leaving no room for Akaashi to argue against it. It was clear. Akaashi needed to move on. “Tell Kita he can return to Miyagi the next day. For now, we’ll hold a celebratory dinner for all his help in the redevelopment.”

Osamu lifted his eyes to what he expected- a crestfallen Akaashi. Silent and despondent. Not wanting to look at the sight any longer, Osamu lifted himself up from his seat gesturing Akaashi to follow suit. “Let’s go out.”

“Huh? For what reason?” The young man says scrambling to catch up.

“We have to prepare you for the creative and marketing meetings next week.”

“Prepare me? I’m well aware of the procedures and processes for these stages.” Akaashi fussed.

“I didn’t mean application-wise. I meant-“ The CEO looks up and down Akaashi’s entirety. “Presentation-wise.”

* * *

“I told you this was unnecessary.” Akaashi said as craned his neck up as two seamstresses took measurements across his body.

“What do you mean unnecessary? It’s completely necessary.” Osamu rebuffs as he emerges from the other room with three suits straightened by hangers in hand. The CEO gently lays the suits on the nearest table, taking good measure to smoothen the fabric over the wood before returning to Akaashi to surmise the cut and style of the man’s tailored suit.

“A suit is a man’s armor in battle, most especially in our line of work wherein relationships are made in split seconds. It’s the first thing used for or against us. It distinguishes us from the crowd and tells a story about our character. It forms every criticism and judgement. Hence-“ Osamu concludes. “It is necessary.”

Akaashi couldn’t churn a rebuttal as he was too busy maintaining his composure as nimble hands prodded and probed through his clothing, depleting himself of his personal space and touching him far too intimately for comfort. Osamu noticed this and thought it best to distract the man. “Do you not like wearing a suit Akaashi?” The CEO queried.

“It’s not that I don’t like it. It’s just that it seems exorbitant to go to such great lengths.” The young man stated reasonably.

The CEO pursed his lips because the man did have a point. He glanced at the suit shop decked in warm mahogany, industrial black metal and clandestine glass. The shop itself was exorbitant. “You may be right. It’s not common to do such things all for a suit, but, then again, you’re not a common man Akaashi.”

The young man scrunched his brows at the flattery silently musing Osamu with the thought _‘Really? Is that the best you can do?’_

The CEO let out a hearty laugh. “What I mean is you’re not just any employee of the company anymore. You are a representative of the values and interests of this company. You will, more often than not, be used as a reference point to which people will decide whether to do business with us or not.”

The young man’s shoulder sagged slightly as he had to agree to that. Business was an industry punctuated with human and public relations.

Realizing the resignation in Akaashi’s eyes, Osamu felt the need to lift his spirit up. He always preferred the raven-head feisty then depressing. “However,-“ The CEO turned his head on one side, averting Akaashi’s gaze. “If you think that’s the only reason we’re doing this. Then, you’re mistaken. “You look-“ Osamu swallowed before meeting Akaashi’s eyes head on. “Really handsome Akaashi. It would be a waste to let you wither in baggy and plain suits.”

The statement nurtured a faint blush on the tips of the ears of the CEO as it’s been a while since he churned out such flattery.

“Hey.” Osamu mutters as he noticed Akaashi still finding discomfort in the thought. “Just give it a shot. If you don’t like it, you can chuck the suit from your wardrobe.”

Akaashi, whose arms were still spread wide apart for the seamstresses, received his message. Equally averting his eyes, he offered a gentle smile while mumbling under his breath, “That’s true.”

Finally, the women were done with their work and Akaashi could step off the platform. After easing himself and his corporate suit from being manhandled, he looked towards Osamu to lead the direction of the day.

“Come here.” The CEO gestures as he returns to the long wooden table where he had laid the suits he handpicked. “These-“ He says as he lays a gentle hand on the silk and satin fabric. “Are ready-made suits. They may not fit you as squarely as the bespoke one we’re having made, but they’ll at least bring much more structure and height to your figure than any suit you’d buy from an average shop. Moreover-“ Osamu thumbed the price tag out, showing the digits to Akaashi. “They’re also cheaper.”

The young man perked up at the prospect. The affordability and design were quite appealing and it seemed Osamu did put much heart in picking it out. Unlike Osamu’s dark and hard tight-fitted suits, the three ensembles seemed to fit Akaashi’s taste, featuring a blue and gray color palette with simple cuts and motifs. He was overly impressed at how the man had actually paid attention to him in the past weeks.

“I made sure to pick ones that focused on bringing out the silhouette of your body rather than decorating you with anything flashy. You don’t need those things after all.” Osamu eyed Akaashi, who was beginning to be enthralled with the selection. “Like I said, you’re very handsome Akaashi.” The CEO moves stealthily behind his assistant, placing both hands on top of his shoulders and patting the balls of his arms. “And one of the things that make you handsome is your figure.” He said after which he slides his hand to the sides of Akaashi’s arm, squeezing gently to take good measure of his muscle ration. “You may not be buff.” Osamu starts. “But you’re tall with a lean athletic figure. We should do more to show that off.” He teased as he let go of the young man completely to return to the table.

In what may seem like an act of declaration, Osamu slams the table and states to Akaashi, “I’ll pay for all of it.” The assistant straightened up. “No, I can’t possibly let you do that.”

“No. You can. You just don’t want me to.” Osamu said in an almost factual tone.

Before Akaashi could further rebuff him, the CEO had gathered the suits in one fell swoop and ambled off to the counter. Akaashi trailed behind him hoping to stop him with a finger in the air and a speech in mind, but, before he could even utter a word, Osamu punctuated the air firmly and clearly with an “Akaashi” ending the conversation there.

At first, Akaashi would normally be off-put by Osamu’s action, but over time he came to recognize that these were one of the ways Osamu showed he cared. He relented with a sigh. _‘One of these days, I should return the favor.’_

After the shopping, Osamu and Akaashi had gone to a nearby patisserie and café across the company headquarters. The CEO eyed Akaashi as the man sipped on his first cup of coffee for the day.

The morning hadn’t left Osamu’s mind at all. The image of Akaashi’s crestfallen face was far too familiar for comfort. It was like staring into a mirror of his younger self, so taken and terribly smitten by someone who didn’t mean to steal his heart. However, he knew Kita’s charms as well as his existing relationship.

Hence, he took Akaashi out as a way to distract the young man as well as to plan how to cut him off from Kita for good. _‘However-‘_ Osamu also thought that he had to do it in a way that wouldn’t hint Akaashi of his knowledge of the said crush. _‘That would deepen the embarrassment and-‘_ Whether he wanted to admit it or not, Osamu had come to grow so used to the young man at his side that losing him in a fit of heartbroken dismay would be a waste.

_‘I don’t think I would find a more capable assistant.’_

Osamu looked over Akaashi, who was savoring the Arabica mixture Osamu did well to lecture him on, and decided that the best way to remedy this was to steer Akaashi away from Kita in the best way he knew how. Himself.

“You know-“ Osamu said, clearing his throat. “I didn’t used to be this way.” The young man placed his cup of coffee down before Osamu continued.

“I wasn’t as lucky as you. I didn’t have a boss like Kita.” Osamu looked at a distance, across the street and into the towering building of their Tokyo headquarters. “I flung myself through a dozen of application processes just to get a corporate job in Tokyo. It was what was expected- land a nice and sweet job at the big city.” Osamu chimed in.

“I was more than happy when I got the job at the Bouncing Ball Corporation. I didn’t give much thought about what the company did as long as it fell under my qualifications and it was something that would bring food to the table, then I’d take it.” Osamu turned to Akaashi this time, meeting the assistant’s gaze head on.

“We weren’t born rich. We’re just pretty ordinary, but ordinary enough to feel the pains of having to hold part-time jobs to make rent and send money home to help mom and dad.” Osamu reminisced his experience. “ Like many of my colleagues, we were excited to work for a start-up like the Bouncing Ball Corporation. We imagined the vibrant and progressive culture we’d get to live and breathe. However, we learned soon that the company was one thing and the leadership was another.” Osamu raised a hand in defense. “Don’t get me wrong Kenma was an amazing CEO. He hit the marks and sales projection every time while taking care of his people, but it was the leaders on the ground that were making life difficult.”

“How so?”

Osamu gave another pained smile. “Unnecessary reports and deadlines, late night overtimes, horrible human resources management and, of course, horrible bosses.” He pointed to himself this time as he laughed. Akaashi didn’t know whether to go along or nod in a smile. Either way would be a dead giveaway to his opinion of Osamu. Nonetheless, it would be Osamu, himself, who would dispel Akaashi’s tension.

“It’s okay. I know I’m not the best boss. I’m not going to hold your hand and lead the way like Kita did.” Osamu said, witnessing the doe-eyed look on Akaashi’s face. “However-“ He continued. “I will stand by your side, freaking tell your ass off if you are doing something wrong and more than willing to help you get up if you do trip and fall. I’m not the best, but I’ll surely be a better boss than my bosses before.”

Akaashi’s lips curled gently as he only began to understand the reason for his boss’ rough and brusque ways. He came from a time when he couldn’t afford to be gentle and mild; a time when he had to play on appearances and social games; and a time when he had to simply suck it up. Everything he had become was much like Akaashi, a product of mimicry. “I understand.” Akaashi uttered, bowing kindly. “Please take care of me Osamu-san.”

With that, unknowingly, Akaashi had dusted a rouge on the wide-eyed executive rendering him almost speechless. “Ahem.” Osamu cleared his throat, feeling a certain lightness in the air. It was silent, but palpable. Whatever had transpire in that had led to warm truce between the individuals. It was a quiet agreement to once and for all take each other’s side.

Osamu found only one way to seal it. “Let’s proceed with the appointments for the day.”

Akaashi nodded, knowing full well he meant the dinner.

* * *

Amidst the shops and restaurants bordering Roppongi hills, a warm and decadent French restaurant beamed in a soft yellow light against the evening. Inside, a man donning a dark red suit taps the tip of his leather shoe against the carpeted floor, waiting impatiently for his turn with the receptionist.

“Good evening sir, under what name would your reservation be sir?”

“Miya Osamu.”

The woman smiles, already having been informed about the appearance of the man before her so as not to alarm her, as it duly would. “Please follow me sir.” She leads the way with the red-suited man on her tail. They navigate throes of candle lit round tables, sifting through servers and diners alike until they’ve reached to a far hall of the floor. The hall is eerily quiet as it’s lined with doors to private rooms. The woman’s heels click against the white marbled floor as she finally reaches the end to present the venue of his dining experience. With another click of her heel, she bows and leaves the man in the quiet and empty hall.

Glancing to his side, the man secured the parameter with no witnesses permitting him to do one thing- breathe. His shoulders sagged and he stuffed his sweaty and cold palms in his pocket as he inhaled and exhaled steadily. Lightly tapping the tips of his leather shoes against the marble, he was unraveling with nerves and fret since it had been a long time since he had seen him- Kita.

Combing a cold palm against his bleached blonde hair, he gave himself another sharp gasp before opening the beech wood door.

As he pushed, he was immediately greeted with the sight of his love- Kita- dressed in his usual light gray suit. A smile grew on the man’s face as his eyes lit up. However, as he pushed further into the room, the door revealed the rest of the company he expected. Osamu and Akaashi seated across Kita came into sight, stopping the man’s smile from becoming full. He nodded towards the company with a forced grin before returning his gaze to Kita and the chair right beside him. _‘As expected. Kita would always save a seat for me’_ He chimed in his head.

“Good evening Atsumu.” Osamu muttered, quirking a sly smile from behind the menu book.

“Evening ‘Samu.” Atsumu mustered with an equally mischievous smirk as he nodded to Akaashi and Kita, who annoyingly bowed in sync.

“Take a seat and we can all start ordering.”

After the waiter came in and out of the room, Osamu was the first one to speak up.

“I want to say thank you Kita. You have helped Akaashi so much with the redevelopment work. Please enjoy this evening as our form of thanks for all your hard work.”

Kita held up a hand modestly. “Thank you Osamu, but this dinner is hardly necessary. I was merely doing my job.”

“A very good job as usual Kita-san.” Akaashi interjected with a smile. “I don’t think I could have moved forward quick as I did without you.”

Kita beamed a smile as he fawned over his apprentice. “It’s no problem Akaashi. I always love being of help.”

Unbeknownst to the two men, Atsumu and Osamu were keenly observing the brief interaction. Atsumu, still riled and threatened by Akaashi’s effect on Kita, was quick to change the subject. Meanwhile, Osamu was measuring the interaction, surmising the amount of attachment that needed disentangling.

“So how is the project going?” Atsumu muttered.

“Well.” Akaashi quickly mused, inadvertently pulling Atsumu’s mug in a tight scowl. “We’re already discussing with the creative and marketing team. However-“

Kita’s ear perked up as he sensed a problem.

Akaashi hummed. “We’re still looking for a fresh face to represent the new direction for the campaign as well as forward the new values we’re trying to reinforce about sexuality.” His lips pursed in thought.

“That is something to think about.” Kita chimed in. “It’s one thing to find an athlete that’s an alpha on their game, but it’s another thing to find a public figure so willing to be thrown into the spotlight for the advocacy, especially since our country has a record of sensationalizing and ostracizing such individuals.”

Both Akaashi and Kita were pre-occupied with the problem, unknowingly humming in unison and aggravating the twins until Atsumu spoke up.

He turned to Kita with a cheeky smile. “I know someone who could fit all that.”

“Oh? Who is he?”

As Atsumu fished his phone with sweaty palms, he answered, “A pro volleyball athlete playing overseas. He recently came out gay after releasing the news that he’d broken up with his American lover. Knowing him, he would love to help in these causes and wouldn’t suffer the consequences since he works abroad.”

“Yes that would be helpful.” Akaashi added, slowly withdrawing a bit of his assumptions on the Miya.

Atsumu shot him a grimace before he flipped his phone open, ready to dial the number to further impress Kita.

“Atsumu, why aren’t you this helpful with me when I ask for help contacting people?” Osamu joked.

“Tch. That’s because when you ask, it’s for the sole purpose of snagging them on a date. I don’t want anymore people crying to me about how you broke their heart!” Atsumu pointedly says.

Akaashi felt a certain tension in himself for being present in such a dialogue. It felt reserved for people of closer relations. Akaashi bearing witness to it made him feel terribly invasive like a stranger strewn along out of necessity.

“Bleh!” Osamu sticks out his tongue. The whole action merits Akaashi’s attention as he never thought Osamu could act so casually this way, especially since this was still practically business.

“You’re just upset that most women I broke up with kept mistaking you for me and would end up slapping your face off.” Osamu said as Kita erupted in a laugh.

 _‘Ah’_ Akaashi thought. _‘I forget.’_ He watches the blissful smile of Kita and the tight pulled frown of Atsumu. _‘They are childhood friends.’_ That would be enough reason for Osamu to let go of his corporate airs, even for a little bit. Another dimension to Osamu was added and, in that moment, Akaashi felt a small warmth swell up in his chest with new loyalty and pride as he was slowly getting grips with the fact that Osamu was indeed more human than corporate capitalist. _‘He isn’t half-bad.’_

“Stop pouting Atsumu! You can piss at me all you want at home, but for now-” Osamu said with crinkled eyes and a wide smile. He gestured his head towards the onslaught of servers entering the room. “Let’s first enjoy the food!”

To enjoy dinner would be a simple feat as the table was filled with all kinds of saucy and creamy concoctions from the finest culinary artists of Tokyo. However, Atsumu couldn’t exactly enjoy as he was pre-occupied with the company right beside him- Kita.

Kita was assigned to Miyagi, while Atsumu was stationed at Tokyo. Though they’ve been high school sweethearts, they were very much stabilized by the intimate proximity they shared with each other. Working so far apart had always gotten Atsumu severely frustrated, but not frustrated enough to warrant any notice from Kita. Atsumu wouldn’t let it.

Kita, after all, deserved so much more. The pristine crystal chandelier than hung from the ceiling threw soft shadows across Kita’s fair complexion. The maroons of the room further accentuated the glaze of his honey caramel eyes. In that dinner table for four, Atsumu could only perceive a meal for two. His senses were only enthralled with Kita as if he was in a sort of hypnosis that made Atsumu fall silent.

The silence was deafening and pitiful as it only made Atsumu’s desire for Kita so much more apparent to his brother, Osamu.

Osamu was on the other side of the table, continuing his lecture to Akaashi about fine dining table manners and the French dishes that were placed on the table. He was chattering away, gesturing one dish over another and wagging a finger here and there to denote do’s and don’ts. He claimed to Kita and Atsumu that it was his way of helping Akaashi prepare for the social aspect of his work. However, Atsumu wouldn’t buy it. He had a small inkling that there was more to it. _‘Osamu would never invest that much in a person, especially when so little time even elapsed.’_ Atsumu curled his lip down, upset that maybe even his brother had fallen for the rumored raven beauty. _‘However-‘_ Atsumu thought. _‘It wouldn’t be so bad if he ended up with Osamu. It would totally remove him from Kita.’_ The idea seemed almost perfect to hatch a plan with.

On the other side of the table, Osamu couldn’t help but feel frustration for his brother. Ever since the meal started, he still hasn’t said a word to Kita. 

_‘After years in a relationship, are you really still that lovesick simp?’_

Osamu eyed how Atsumu fidgeted in his seat and broke into a cold sweat. His lips quivered clumsily as he awkwardly tried to find the right timing to interject between Akaashi and Kita. Though it was amusing to see his twin’s fits of jealousy, it was much more painful to witness his helplessness as he asked for attention from Kita like a neglected puppy. Osamu was unfortunately suffering with him.

“The food tastes great.” Kita would say, mustering Atsumu’s attention.

“Y-yes.”

Kita giggled a bit, hiding his cheeky smile behind a hand. “Atsumu.” Kita began. “You haven’t even eaten a thing.” The man pointed out to his company’s empty plate and clean cutlery. “Get something already and eat.” Kita commanded teasingly.

Slightly blushing, Atsumu carried on filling his plate with unfamiliar French delicacies. Soon, couples on both sides began interacting with one another again. Osamu made an immediate effort to intervene any interaction with Kita, hogging the gray-haired man’s attention to the ire of Atsumu.

Atsumu huffed while flicking between Osamu and Kita, watching as his brother had such an effect to warrant lively expressions on Kita’s face. It was such a special sight that it could only elicit an ugly, green fire in Atsumu’s chest. He wouldn’t have any of this Osamu- Kita time. Propelled by impulse, Atsumu would gently rub his knee against Kita, testing if the other would permit this much. Fortunately, Kita would simply turn his way, eyeing him knowingly, and turning away with a smile.

 _‘That’s not a no.’_ He surmised as he wiggled his brows.

Encouraged than warned, Atsumu begins to strip his foot of his black leather loafer with another. His sock-covered foot meets the cold hard tile as he tiptoes under the table to feel out the expanse. Using Kita’s knee as reference, he lifts his foot up expertly enough. With much practiced precision he uses the tip of his toe to lift the hem of Kita’s pants up slightly, testing the waters once more. Atsumu looked, searching for any form of disapproval. However, Kita would not look his way. No. The man held Osamu’s eyes steadfast, only driving Atsumu’s cause harder.

Boldly, Atsumu proceeds to feign finishing his meal, dabbing the corner of his mouth with a napkin in one hand while he rested the other on a knee- Kita Shinsuke’s knee, of course. The touch was familiar, but the context was dangerous. Atsumu watched Kita as he refused to look at him, only swallowing hard and pressing thinly into his lips to ever indicate any effect. The reaction was more than inspiring to Atsumu to continue further. From grasping the full ball of his knee, Atsumu slowly caressed further down Kita’s thigh, making sure to angle his hand in such a way that his fingertips would feather the inside. Brushing so teasingly, yet deeply, Atsumu ‘s hand roved up and down, coaxing a stifled sharp breath from Kita now and then. To Atsumu’s displeasure, Kita had completely bypassed his attention from Osamu to Akaashi, a person Kita knew all too well that Atsumu disliked.

It struck a nerve that Atsumu felt he the need to do something more extreme. With a sly smile, he slid his hand further towards Kita’s nether regions, already feeling the reaction he desired by the trembling of his leg. _‘That’s it. Tremble a bit more.’_ As he boldly was about to caress the very core of Kita, a hand shot down to stop him in the act, almost breaking his writs in a Spartan grip.

“Atsumu.” Kita punctuated with a livid expression. “You seem pre-occupied. Didn’t you hear what Akaashi asked?”

 _‘To hell what Akaashi said!’_ Atsumu thought as he tried to keep a smile in spite of the pain in his wrist. “Sorry, I spaced out. What did Akaashi say Kita?” Atsumu managed calmly, hiding the small tremor of agony throughout his whole body. Blood was being effectively cut off from his hand.

“Tsk. Tsk. Atsumu. Aren’t you a bit old to be spacing out? I was telling Akaashi how we should make the next campaign about sexual harassment.” Kita said with a strong intonation on the words _sexual harassment._

Atsumu gulped hard as sweat beads formed at the back of his head. “Oh.” He could only answer. “And what did Akaashi ask?”

Kita smiled and that made Atsumu fear for his life. Kita’s grimace was tainted with a deathly aura that promised the coming of cold, hard murder. Nonetheless, he expertly maintained an almost dandy tone. “He asked what you thought about harassers, but I told Akaashi that sexual harassers deserve nothing but the death penalty.”

 _‘Shit.’_ Atsumu got the clue.

As soon as Atsumu got the message, Kita dropped the act within a millisecond flashing the furious outrage in his eyes, before resuming his dandy face for show once again. Atsumu felt his soul leave his body in that moment. That was until Akaashi intervened.

“Excuse me, but are you okay Atsumu-san?” The raven-haired man prompted, noticing the pallor tone of Atsumu’s skin. The moment prompted Kita to finally loosen his vice grip, returning function to Atsumu’s left hand thankfully.

“Y-yes Akaashi. I’m just very-“ He glanced at Kita who had only given him a single disgusted look.. “Tired. I’m very tired, Akaashi.” Atsumu uttered as his downtrodden gaze was to the table. The look made Atsumu’s mood fall as he knew he wouldn’t be granted any access tonight. _‘Did I unwittingly destroy my chances of sexy night?’_ He mused.

Much like Akaashi, Osamu pulled an incredulous brow, wondering what had transpired in the mere hours they ate. “Well, if you among all people are tired, I guess everyone else is at this point. Akaashi-“ Osamu gestured to the young man, informing him that now was the time for the farewell.

Akaashi, Osamu, Kita and Atsumu were now standing at the front of the restaurant, braving the cold as they exchanged their thanks. Osamu was the first.

“Thank you so much Kita for helping Akaashi redevelop and rebrand the project.” He said as he shook his hands with the old friend, making sure not to lose at the competition of a firm grip. However, as Kita and Osamu were expectedly about to break off, Osamu oddly pulled Kita in, leaning closer into the shell of his ear. “I’d hate to admit it, but he’s a good guy that Akaashi of yours.” Kita smiled upon the whisper before breaking away. He turned his gaze on Akaashi this time, expressing much of his pride and fondness for the young man in the softness in his eyes and the gentle curl of his lip. He held out his hand for him while Akaashi hesitated to reach out.

In that single swing of an arm, endearing feelings nurtured over years would have to be encapsulated and sealed in that moment to never be returned. The night was cold but their hands were warm, particularly Akaashi’s as he spilled all of his care and love to Kita in the brief and small intertwining of their fingertips. Never would they extend any farther, not into a hand held as you walked, not into a sweet loving embrace or not even into a cherished parting peck. All of it had to dissipate just as the last traces of heat would disappear after a grateful and heartening shake.

Akaashi would never admit it because he had already cried too many nights ago, but, deep down, a lump formed in the pit of his chest, wanting him to confess then and there. It was heavy and hard that it warranted a certain breathlessness. It was a breathlessness so keenly associated with panic, but a panic he had to address calmly. He was Akaashi, the CEO’s assistant, and Kita was his former boss, someone he could never have. There would be no existing context for that so a confession would be what Akaashi thought of as _‘Impossible.’_

Akaashi glumly swallowed hard as he bowed and faced his new boss, the one that would take Kita’s place. In an acutely calm manner, Akaashi merely said “I’ll get the car.” In mere seconds, he disappeared into the dark.

“Tch. That was awfully cold.” Atsumu muttered as he emerged from behind fashioning a scowl. “If it was my last time to see my beloved boss, I’d be more affectionate than that.”

“Hmph! Better than someone being overly affectionate to the point of harassment.” Kita acidly added as he momentarily bared his canines to Atsumu who shrunk into himself.

“Some things never change with you ‘Tsumu. With Akaashi, it can’t be helped.” Osamu cuts in with eyes that seemed cold with desolate melancholy. “Business is business.” He merely adds before looking at the distance where Akaashi had disappeared into.

 _‘_ Atsumu recoils knowing all too well not to probe further. Instead he returns his gaze to his self-made problem for the night- Kita. His heart clambers as Kita, who remains adamant in maintaining a cold shoulder to Atsumu, seems pre-occupied. The gray-haired man lowers his gaze to his hand, brushing fingers across the palm as he mentally recalls Akaashi’s touch and heat. Whispering Atsumu’s words like a prayer, he repeats to himself “Last time.”

Immediately, a ray of warm yellow light come into periphery. It’s translucent trail leading towards the source- a black SUV- that had come to the halt by the side of the road. The door pops open to reveal Akaashi, happily getting out of the stalwart vehicle. Osamu takes this as his signal to leave. _‘The sooner, the better.’_ He thought as he wanted to create as much time and distance between Akaashi and Kita.

“Osamu!” The holler startles the executive into a halt as he glances back at the usually well-mannered man that had summon such a call. “I know.” He stammers. “I know Akaashi is a good guy so please-“ Kita straightens himself in a full bow before continuing. “Take care of Akaashi.”

The CEO quirks a smile, mustering a bittersweet expression. “Of course. What do you take me for?” He, then, turns back to Kita and Atsumu offering one last bow before being led by Akaashi, who thankfully heard nothing of what transpired in the moment. The young man closed the door shut and quickly ran to the driver’s seat, but not without sharing a last look. Feelings and possibilities were brought alive in that one glance to only perish in the next. Akaashi turned away. His future would not be with Kita. Popping the door open and shutting it close, the driver roars the vehicle to life and disappears as quickly as it arrived.

Kita had watched it closely. He had watched how the vehicle had turned its wheels, how it gradually went forward and how it blended into the night with no promise of return. He witnessed all these while imagining the lean arms and delicate fingers maneuvering inside. They had said goodbye several times before, but why was it that it seemed that every time it felt like a farewell forever.

All the while this happening, Atsumu was by Kita’s side, observing the transition of his expression from a lit fondness to a heavy glum gaze. It made Atsumu all the more convinced that he keenly detested Akaashi Keiji who had this odd effectiveness on Kita.

The man clicked his tongue with a heat raging through his chest. The possibility of replacement couldn’t be any more tangible than in the raven-haired beauty that Kita endearingly cherished and called out in the quiet as his kouhai. The thought left a bitter aftertaste in Atsumu’s mouth as he grappled with the need to once more remind Kita that he was the only one to be cherished as so.

Sliding cold finger through the length of Kita’s jaw, Atsumu turns the man away from ghost figure of the vehicle and towards his face that was tilted in waiting. Kita’s eyes widened as he beheld Atsumu’s expression- territorial and lustful-as his eyes narrowed so keenly on him. In that split second, Kita knew he wouldn’t win. He closed his eyes and gave in.

Atsumu leaned into the man pressing lip against lip as the pink flesh slid and rubbed against each other, moistening at every motion and contact. Nipping and tasting each other’s mouths, Atsumu slightly withdrew, savoring the faint lurch of Kita’s face as it tried to find Atsumu’s lips again. He smirked. “Yeah. I’m the only one you should be looking for.” He said in a hushed voice as he nuzzle into Kita’s forehead.

His lover’s eyes fluttered open with a mild annoyance and a lustful yearning. In between pants of breath, he manages to calmly say “Let’s go home.”

The travel in the car was a weighty experience. The desire for a salacious night as well as the want to cherish Kita properly had conflicted Atsumu, enveloping into a tense weight in himself. It was only upon reaching Kita’s hotel and walking him up all the way to his room that Atsumu had realized how deeply in danger he was of misreading the signs. There was always the chance Kita would rather end the night with a chaste kiss and a full night’s rest. However, it would also be foolish to dismiss the opportunity to spend as much time physically while Kita was in Tokyo. Atsumu was almost paralyzed in the moment, swallowed by the same clumsy wordlessness he was consumed in at the start of the dinner.

With one swipe of the key card, Kita had opened the door startling Atsumu into reality. He glanced back at his lover who remained immovable from his position with a downturned face. His mouth was ajar to only shut close once again as he fumbled to find the right words to say goodnight with. Kita smiled, stifling a giggle when he approached the man flowering with a blush and stuttering at his speech.

_‘This is why I fell in love with you Atsumu.’_

In one swift motion, Kita’s lips had pressed hard into Atsumu’s, arresting the man’s tension and embarking deeper into the pit of his lover to only pull him through the door.

Hands draped over Atsumu’s neck, Kita relents his body to the roving touches of Atsumu’s hands as they hold him by the waist and explore the expanse of his back. Seconds bleed into minutes before they break away from each other’s tongue, making their puckered lips apparent. “Kita.” Atsumu whispers softly into his lover’s ear, brushing the shell with heat that encourages Kita’s own. Glazed with a slick sheen, their eyes meet again only to alight as they slot their noses with one another’s to nuzzle in another deep and enflamed kiss. “Kita.” Atsumu rasps in between only to cause a shudder deep under Kita’s body.

“Kita.”

Their feet fumble as they strip of their shoes and navigate into the bedroom space. Atsumu’s leg bumps hard into the television credenza as he pushes Kita forward to their destination- the plush white bed. Alleviating the pain with a groan, Atsumu singlehandedly decides to lift Kita off his feet eliciting low moans of protests in between their kisses. Nonetheless, Atsumu would have his way breaking away from the kiss only to drop Kita on the mattress. The man slightly bounces off the sheets with a thump, ripped away from his source of wanting. Pushing himself upright, Kita manages to wipe drool from his face with the back of his hand as he looks up at Atsumu towering above.

While standing, Atsumu quickly unbuttons the clasps of his suit jacket, vest and dress shirt. Kita, whose eyes were still on Atsumu’s feral glare, can only hear the heavy material drop and pool at his feet. In that moment, in spite of the many years of lording over Atsumu, Kita had willingly submitted himself to Atsumu, graciously leaning slightly back to behold the fine contours and curvatures that would encapsulate his body.

Kita’s eyes fluttered down, eyeing the nether region that was awakening. His eyes remained alive with anticipation as he gnawed on his bottom lip, watching Atsumu unbuckle his belt. The soft click of metal triggers a physical slick within Kita once again, making his lust so much more tangible.

“Are you just going to watch?” Atsumu says with a smirk, eyeing Kita’s still fully clothed mass.

Nursing a blush, Kita slowly begins to strip himself of his own suit jacket and dress shirt, dragging the fabric from his creamy white skin to only chuck it to the bedside floor. He fumbles with his belt, as the metal clicks off and his fingers grip on both his boxers and pants to drag it down all the way ‘til it’s completely stripped off of him. He relieves a breath as he presents his nakedness as well as his perked core to his lover. Lifting his gaze up, he meets Atsumu’s downcast eyes, drinking up the image of the bare and wide body before him. A cheeky smile grows on Atsumu as his eyes wander from the man’s slender torso to his face, thoroughly flushed and intoxicated with want. He feels the sudden rush to get things over.

“Atsumu.” Kita whines as he leans forward to help Atsumu to quickly unbutton his pants. Urgency streams through the Kita in a plethora of stirrings, sweats and scents. His lover stifles a laugh with a grin as he enjoys the affectionate fawning over by clumsy finger and tired lips. The naked fellow’s fingers finally unclasp and unzips the pants, allowing them to fall as immediately as the appearance of Atsumu’s protruding and clothed bulb. They address Kita like an elephant in the room. The man stared into the protrusion as its wetness drenched the center of Atsumu’s brief. Tipping his head up. Kita cooed at Atsumu for permission, but he knew he never needed to ask. 

With a soft grin, Kita opened his mouth easing the clothed bulb into him. Atsumu’s body shuddered as Kita licked and bobbed through the fabric, nuzzling his nose deeper into Atsumu’s hips. Feeling that Atsumu’s slickness should be enough, Kita pulled away fingering the band of Atsumu’s brief and flicking it down to join the articles at his feet. Out came Atsumu’s core, twitching and perked up enough to brush its length against Kita’s face. The man pressed his lips to the tip, licking it ever so often to break Atsumu’s effort to stifle a groan.

Kita smirked because it’s one thing to bring a man such as Atsumu down and it’s another thing to keep doing so even after so many years.

Dusted with an apparent rouge from tips of his ears to the bridge of his nose, Atsumu endured as Kita transitioned from teasing the head to completely swallowing Atsumu whole. Atsumu gasps, as he feels himself throbbing as he’s squeezed into Kita’s walls. Kita begins to bob back and forth tossing Atsumu’s head back in pleasure and pain.

Atsumu struggles not to thrust his hips, wanting to be gentle with Kita’s mouth, knowing all too well the headiness of his width and girth. However, the man thinks otherwise. Kita holds down Atsumu’s hips and starts thrusting them into his mouth himself. “Kita!” Atsumu whines as he finds his body viscerally conflicted between the urge to completely choke Kita senseless and taking care of Kita’s tiny mouth. Nonetheless, Kita plunges Atsumu deeper into him until he can feel the manic twitching against his throat’s walls. Tears slowly spill from his eyes and he endures the hold. “Kita.” Atsumu struggles to warn, but Kita holds Atsumu’s cock steadfast in his mouth wanting one thing. _‘Ugh. Just a bit more.’_ The release of Atsumu’s arousal. He thrusts once more before a stream of white fills him in.

Backing into the bed, Kita wipes the corner of his lips as he swallows Atsumu’s cum, feeling the warmth spread throughout his body and ignoring his own breathlessness. The white slick was like a concoction of delirium as Kita willingly eases himself into the bed, spreading out his legs for Atsumu on instinct.

Atsumu hovers over his panting love, watching how his chest stabilizes the rest of him with its rise and fall. He brushes the back of his hand against Kita’s cheek, wiping the visible sheen of sweat and cum off. “Kita, you shouldn’t have done that.” Atsumu swallows, brushing strands that have stuck unto the man’s forehead.

“I wanted to.” Kita smiles, offering Atsumu a small reprieve. “But if you want to return the favor“ Kita continued, lowering his voice. The gray-haired man pushed himself up the mattress, forcing Atsumu to reel back. Presenting his white rearside, Kita slides his fingers on the underside of his thigh until they reach his opening, which he stretches teasingly to Atsumu to merely say “Prep me up.”

Atsumu smiles and snorts at the image, further reassured that Kita was more than physically fine and emotionally his. He dips himself into the crook of Kita’s neck, nuzzling into the sweat and scent before he whispers against his skin. “Got it.”

Atsumu returns from the bathroom with a white tube in hand. He dips his body once more into the bedsheets as he confines Kita’s legs between his own. The cap is thrown into the sea of white as Atsumu lathers his hand in the lubricant. Placing his hand gently on Kita’s underside, eliciting a slight shiver, Atsumu inserts two digits carefully, meriting a muffled huff. Atsumu grins. “Relax Kita. I need you to relax.” Atsumu says as he watches how Kita’s fingers and toes curl against the sheets.

“Atsumu-“ Kita whines as his eyes keep shut as he imagines the girth of Atsumu’s fingers, prodding his walls and returning to the spot they know all too well. “Uh-ah!” Kita wails as, without warning, Atsumu’s digits thrust into Kita’s sweet spot, withdrawing loosely to only tensely plunge with constant tenacity. Kita’s moans come in erratic breaths as he hardens to Atsumu’s rhythm and the sound of squelching liquid. Stability in his knees buckle as his legs simply rock in time to Atsumu’s thrusts. Then, holding his breath, Atsumu inserts a third digit cracking the earth on Kita and arching his back in a pleasurable pain of being stretched farther than before. Eyes wide open and edging with new tears. “Atsumu!” He manages as his lover watches closely as Kita’s delicate frame quakes and trembles against his fingers. Atsumu continues incessantly until his prodding and thrusting merits a trail of slickness spilling from Kita’s bottom. Atsumu smiles.

“This enough.” Atsumu says to himself as he expertly releases his fingers from Kita’s wall, eliciting a delirious gasp from the man left on hold. Kita pants breathlessly as the rest of his body remain flushed in the hard, deep heat of the intercourse. His core at its limit, almost close to coming. “Tsumu.” Kita mumbles, wiping tears from his eyes as he feels almost empty without anything of Atsumu within him.

“Relax Kita.” Atsumu says with a soft gentleness as he pets Kita’s wet, slick hair. Calming the man with the pad of his fingers, he whispers “I’m going to put it in.”

Kita swallows hard as he nods and yields his limp legs to Atsumu’s lifting. His lower body is further spread out, as Atsumu angles his pelvis from above. The anticipation is thick in the air as the tip of Atsumu prods Kita’s entrance, teasing the man into a whimper.

Nonetheless, after years of having practiced, Kita willfully unclenches his ass and the simultaneous motion begins. Atsumu dives his core into Kita’s backside, magnifying the euphoria of a smooth, slick penetration. They both sharply inhale as they feel each other out, enclosing and digging into each other. As brows furrowed and sweat stained the skin, Kita and Atsumu grit their teeth while immersing in one another’s fullness and love.

It takes time before Atsumu shifts a bit, eliciting the hurt whimper of Kita as his insides squeeze further wide. “Sorry Kita.” Atsumu musters as he positions himself so Kita’s body could relax further into the bed. “Is this better?” Kita, incapable of even croaking, simply hums in between the whimpers, signaling Atsumu to begin.

He starts out slowly, wanting to ease his partner into the rhythm. With less whimpers from Kita, Atsumu begins to quicken his pace, thrusting faster and deeper into Kita with an almost carnal instinct. Kita’s moans and grunts deepen as he propels his hips into Atsumu in time with his thrusts. The synchronization almost deafening with the squelch of liquid and the slap of skin.

Kita physically feels himself melt inside as Atsumu’s core speeds up in an unwarranted pace that makes Kita forget the time of day. He lets out an almost animalistic noise as he growls and grunts in between moans of Atsumu’s name, perpetuating the lust thick in the air. He rocks his hips and revels in the passion as he keeps up with Atsumu with inscrutable noises as his only release from the pain. Atsumu’s hunger is insatiable as he fucks Kita into a spiraling wet abyss, blurring pain and pleasure.

Atsumu is almost at his limit as he pushes deeper into Kita, almost bending the man’s legs inward in an almost contortionist angle. “Almost there.” Atsumu mutters under his breath. Still very conscious of his effects on Kita, Atsumu assesses the mistiness of his lover’s eyes and the drool pooling at his mouth. It’s almost arousing that he concludes he is at the brink of his hold. In one swift move, he withdraws from Kita’s hold to lift his lover’s hip into the air as he gives him one last strong pulse of his core, cumming in the process.

It rewards Atsumu with a sputter of white trails upon Kita’s abdomen, while his slick heat spills at into a pool on the bed. “Fuck.” Atsumu says as he lowers Kita’s body down, slowly pulling out eliciting another sharp gasp.

Atsumu flops beside Kita and watches as his partner heaves as much air as he expels. His creamy white skin is stained made whiter by their love. They stay like that- quiet- amidst the delirium. Then, Atsumu gently places a hand on the exhausted face of Kita, turning it towards his direction.

Having the man’s attention, Atsumu drapes his arms over Kita’s body pulling him in a hot, sticky embrace as he gazes on the heavily flushed face of his lover. Hazy caramel eyes, sweat-stained cheeks and pink puckered lips punctuate Kita’s fatigue. Yet, the young man let’s out a smile, before wrapping Atsumu’s neck with his slender arms. He rests himself on the blonde man’s chest, finding a peace in the slowing of his lover’s heartbeat. Relishing the stillness, Atsumu pets Kita’s head as he whispers in a hushed voice “I love you.”

The man quickly turns to cuddle further into Atsumu, not minding the white mess that trickles from his skin. He breaks away from his refuge to glance up at his lifelong keeper and confidante. All too familiar with this ritual, with this partaking of reaffirming their vows to each other, Kita irrevocably declares “I love you Atsumu.”

* * *

The next morning, Atsumu steps into the bedroom, still slick and wet from a shower, eyeing Kita who’s fast asleep under the covers. He dons a sweet grin, whistling to himself as he amble to the bed side to take a seat. The foam sinks a little under his weight as he reaches out to his lover, brushing strands from his face to reveal the peaceful reverie he had fallen into.

Atsumu lightly chuckles. _‘Kita looks better asleep than awake.’_ About to get up from his seat, he remembers the favor he said he would do for Kita and Akaashi. Atsumu’s lips pull into a scowl at the thought of the raven-haired man. Nonetheless, he snatches his phone from the bedside table to search among his contacts. Calling a number, he eyes Kita who turns softly in his sleep, instinctively reaching out his hand to fumble for Atsumu. The scene merit a soft laugh as Atsumu is filled once again with a light-heartedness. _‘For Kita.’_ He thinks as, finally, a voice picks up on the other line.

“Hello?”

“Hey Bo.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I hope you enjoyed. This fic is really a personal experiment of mine to test the waters of AU building, but I hope this spiced the universe up. Hehehe Atsukita needs that down time. Please let me know what your thoughts and theories are for this. Hehehe thank you and please stay tuned!
> 
> Playlist for Atsukita:
> 
> What You Need- BAYNK  
> Idk- Matt Van  
> Jasmine- DPR LIVE


	4. A New Ally

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His golden eyes flickered to Akaashi’s face with a certain fire. This time the flames stoked weren’t simmering hot like Osamu’s. No. These were outright hellraising.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! Sorry i couldn't update the last week. I was so swamped with work that I had neither the time nor the energy to write in between. Because of that, I tried my best to make this chapter a bit longer than the usual. I hope the developments are to your liking! Hehe enjoy!

That same night, the cold air bellowed harsher than usual as it howled through Akaashi’s coat while he got in the car. Slipping into the leather seat, he gave Kita and Atsumu one last look before revving the vehicle alive and proceeding slowly forward.

 _‘Don’t.’_ Akaashi would remind himself as he faced forward unto the long city road. _‘Your farewell is done.’_ He thought as they gradually picked up the speed.

 _'Don’t.’_ He said again to himself as the streetlights steadily vanished into the abyss behind him as well as the long cherished love he had- Kita.

 _‘Don’t.’_ But he did.

In a fleeting minute of reason and self-preservation, Akaashi looked, lifting his gaze unto the rear view mirror where the small, but strikingly clear picture of Kita showed. The slight warmth left over from parting slowly came alive in his chest and a small smile crept on his face as he burned the image into his mind once more. _‘Another token for the departure.’_ He thought. However, all good things are momentary.

In a matter of a second, Atsumu had been upon the man he adored. Akaashi’s raven eyes widened as the lovers locked lips on the sidewalk, bereft of any form of bashfulness or embarrassment as if they’ve done this before. Kita had shown no sign of resistance as he leaned into Atsumu and stroked his cheeks lovingly coaxing for more. It sent shockwaves through Akaashi’s frame as he held to whatever structure he could to ground himself to the reality that he was still manning a vehicle. Akaashi’s mouth was agape as he gripped the steering wheel tighter out of necessity. He watched, flickering between the front road and the disappearing view of the lovers, as his farewell had now been tinged with the machinations of bedroom lust with someone that wasn’t him.

“Straight to your house sir?” Akaashi shot out from among the things that was on top of his head. He tried to swallow hard on the lump in his throat, but found it nearly impossible to down solid pain that was becoming near tangible so he asked, distracting himself.

Osamu arched his brow thinking that it couldn’t be any more obvious. Where else would he go at the dead of night? He did, however, spot the trailing eyes of Akaashi on the rear view mirror. Armed with the same acuity that made him the executive he was today, he followed suit to the direction of Akaashi’s gaze, turning his head quickly to catch sight of Akaashi’s detrimental discovery for the night- rejection in its worst form ever. It was in the form of another lover.

 _‘No.’_ The image had manifested Osamu’s worst fear, inciting his heart into a cage of thorns for Akaashi and with Akaashi like an old memory of his own. Without missing a beat, Osamu spoke up immediately. “Akaashi!” Osamu panicked with no thoughts except for one- to rid Akaashi of the sight of the two. “Let’s make a right. I feel like drinking a little.”

Akaashi nodded as he turned the wheel at a corner and, with that, losing sight of the lovers completely.

The dark evening sky wept along the way, coating the concrete and asphalt with traces of its sultry sadness. The car wheels dripped with wetness that softened the sharp turns and abrupt lurches of the vehicle. What little poise Akaashi had was slowly being apparent by his lack of dexterity on the wheel. His rabid maneuvers irked Osamu to a point, however, he’d tolerate it for the night knowing too well that there was a far too reasonable excuse. _‘No one is ever truly coolheaded after a heartbreak.’_ Osamu sighed.

He eyed Akaashi as they entered the bar. The young man’s silhouette was hiked higher and shrunk into itself than usual. Akaashi didn’t seem the kind to allow things to evidently faze him. _‘He wouldn’t.’_ Osamu thought and that was what increased his concern because Akaashi was failing so terribly at keeping his image.

They navigated into the classy New York-styled pub, making their way straight to the bar. Fortunately, it wasn’t that crowded and the rain along with the thralls of noise created a tolerable hum- loud enough to drown the rest of the world, but low enough to allow a decent conversation over drinks.

Osamu sat first, patting the seat next to him for Akaashi. “Come.” He urged before facing the bartender.

“I’ll have a Negroni and-“ He turned over to Akaashi who had simply settled in. “How about you? What are you feeling about having today?” Osamu mused.

The young man simply shrugged his shoulders offhandedly having realized he didn’t think he had to drink as well.

“Maybe something kind.” Osamu suggested, gesturing to the arsenal of liquids before them.

“Kind?” Akaashi whispered. _‘Much like I thought of Kita.’_

“I don’t think I want anything kind tonight.” Akaashi said determinedly, wanting to be near anything resembling his love in any manner. “I’ll have a Long Island Ice Tea please.” No. He’d have the mistress of burning and buzzing alcohol tonight.

Osamu released a heavy breath. “It’s going to be a long night.”

The bartender handed them their drinks, sliding the crystalline glass against the hardwood top. The gesture and interruption was welcomed as the two men had sat in a pregnant silence since they entered. The tension was hefty in the air, silently but slowly suffocating the two under and intangible weight.

Osamu paid no heed to it being much more watchful of his company, measuring and surmising how to go about the night. Osamu had concluded that the young man’s smile was, at most, civil, strained, but tired. His eyes were dark, oddly desolate, that the glassy sheen that coated them threatened to freeze over. Osamu took another gulp of alcohol all the while deliberating if it was better to let them harden into a tundra or to break the ice to unleash an unfathomable flood of waterworks.

He narrowed his eyes on Akaashi’s pale fingers, observing how they fidgeted and shuddered honestly than its owner. _‘Anything is better than this.’_ Osamu finally spoke.

“So, how are you feeling tonight Akaashi?”

“Fine.” Akaashi manages, tersely ending the dialogue there.

 _‘That doesn’t give me much groundwork.’_ Osamu deemed as he, once again, mentally tiptoed for words. He pressed his lips before he continued, slowly and hesitantly, knowing too well the delicacy of the operation. “Oh? You don’t-“ He swallows “-look fine.”

Akaashi ever so slightly narrowed his eyes on his own nimble fingers, how they wrapped and thumbed the hour-glass figure of his untouched drink. “Is that so?” Akaashi said, keeping his eyes intently on the auburn liquid while maintaining an even tone. He watches the ice melt and shift inside the bubbly drink, much like how their lips shifted in the cold night.

 _‘Pink.’_ Akaashi thought. _‘His lips were starting to look pink and swollen.’_ He tilted his head to the side as he slowly neared the glass towards him.

Suddenly, the image of Atsumu riveted through the sanctuary of his mind space. What little change of heart he had for Atsumu had been deformed into a kind of contempt. Rage, fury and wrath all seemed too strong of emotions to feel for anyone who had very little meaning to Akaashi. However, the pain Atsumu inflicted by the mere position he held in Kita’s life was enough to at least merit much disdain from him. _‘Among all people, why him?’_ He grits his teeth as he goes on the mental round of comparing himself to Atsumu on several different levels, all the while being all too aware of Osamu, a man who shared Atsumu’s face.

Being so deftly close to Osamu while being so emotionally unhinged was starting to concern Akaashi as he realized his own control was fraying by the ends. He withdrew further into himself fearing any form of slack of looseness in his body would pave the way for uninhibited raging emotional upheaval. Because of that, he refused to look over to Osamu. He refused to see the face that would unleash the wildest of his imaginations and fantasies regarding how Atsumu’s eyes would look into Kita’s, how his nose would slot so perfectly together with his and how his lips would move smoothly against Kita’s pale, cool skin. The very thought would unnerve him.

“I am fine.” He repeats more to himself with a pained smile. Crinkling his eyes nearly into fine slits, he turns and nods to Osamu reassuring the man he had nothing to worry about all the while obscuring his face from sight.

The act only deepens Osamu’s concern. He turns his attention to his drink, watching as the tiny bubbles drift up and break into the surface. _‘Much like the tension.’_ He thought. _‘It needs to be broken.’_

That was going to be a long shot. He did one more glance at Akaashi, watching his frame draw closer within himself. Having been both a subordinate and superior, Osamu was very much aware that their corporate positions was a wall between the two. It was the wall of professionalism, the wall of keeping face and, of course, the wall of pride.

 _‘How would you overcome this wall so that he’d be more than willing to open up?’_ He thought.

In order to receive vulnerability, one must be willing to be vulnerable first.

“Akaashi.” Osamu begins, gently enunciating the young man’s name with a soft and sweet smile. Regardless, it merit little attention from the raven-head. He remains stalwart in gazing intently on his drink, burning holes through the crystalline glass. Nonetheless, Osamu continues. “The first time I met my first love was in a bush.”

In a matter of minutes, Osamu narrated his childhood as well as his flowering feelings for a strange boy he had dragged to the ground. He carefully threaded story so as to tell how they had first met, how he knew he had fallen in love and how he discovered he would never be loved back all the while never revealing the name of his affection and his love rival. He distinctly mused on about how he was literally the third wheel of the group, so close to the two and yet so terribly dense to have overlooked the nuances and signs that had screamed their relationship all this time. He mocked himself. “I was really an idiot.” He said smiling half-heartedly wondering if his personal revelation had all fallen on deaf and similarly heartbroken ears.

They didn’t.

Osamu lifted his gaze to Akaashi and beheld the wax and wane of his eyes. Whatever disdain the young man had felt for Atsumu had been neatly compartmentalized and reserved for the man. Osamu’s willingness to unwrap a delicate part of himself had touched much of Akaashi’s core that he could very much overlook the fact that they were identical twins. Ironically, Osamu’s pain had become Akaashi’s pain by the mere word of mouth, much like how Akaashi’s pain had become Osamu’s pain by the mere trail of the eye. For some reason, the sharing of this pain made them kindred spirits that tethered closer to each other over time and maybe even intimately over the night.

“Really?” Akaashi said betraying a sadness in his tone. “You really never even got to confess. You never even gave it a shot?”

Osamu hummed. “I guess you would think it was cowardly or even sad to turn away my own feelings, but I think it was the right decision. You confess to express your affection to another, to confirm their feelings or to resolve a situation. Why would you need to confess if you already knew what the answer would be?”

Akaashi turned away, noticing that the surface of his drink had risen from the melted ice. He began to sip its cusp, rescuing it from overflowing. “That sounds very much like you.” He said after his first drink.

“Oh?” Osamu cooed as he propped his head up with a hand.

“It sounds very much like you to be effective and efficient even with your own feelings.”

“What do you mean?” Osamu raised a brow, honestly curious.

“Well, you saw them walk hand-in-hand. You didn’t tell them you weren’t coming along. You didn’t tell them how you felt. You didn’t even offer yourself the small reprieve to be away from them. Not even a while.” Akaashi continued musing into the distance. “I don’t even know if you cried yourself to sleep that night, but it sounded like you didn’t. No. You just completely went on with life as if you were telling yourself that your feelings didn’t matter.”

The small dull pain that Osamu had always acknowledged in his chest whenever he told this heartbreak had somehow magnified on Akaashi’s coaxing. It was slightly throbbing more so than before. Maybe there was some truth to what his assistant said. _‘What did it matter?’_ He thought. He looked into Akaashi’s deep blues and realized that the young man was searching. He was instinctively searching in Osamu, in his story and in his eyes for the answer he, himself, had been at a loss for. One way or another, maybe by the mere coincidence that they had been heartbroken so similarly, Akaashi was surmising how he would resolve his own unrequited love through Osamu’s story. That made the CEO smile.

“You know, if you told me this when I was younger, I would most probably would have agreed to you. I would got out of this seat right now and grabbed a cab all the way to my first love’s house. I’d race through the stairs and knock on the door at the break of dawn. Then and there, I would confess. I’d spill all my feelings unto the floor until I’d spill the tears in my eyes as well.” Osamu said in one breath. “However-“ He interjected. “We’re not young kids anymore, are we Akaashi?” He eyed his assistant who was at the edge of his seat anticipating his next few words.

He heaved a sigh, knowing the gravity of his words. “We’re adults now Akaashi. We can’t go back in time to change things and we most certainly shouldn’t stomp on everyone else’s peace and happiness for the mere satisfaction of our own. However, you are right. We should at the very least allow ourselves to feel these emotions, sadness, pain and regret, dive deep into them and move forward through them. I’m resigned to the idea that all was said and done.” He shrugged.

“Resigned may sound like a weakness, a form of cowardice and self-pity, but-“ He said meekly, sheepishly offering a kind smile to Akaashi. “-resigning is more of a strength to me now. To know, be aware and accept the circumstances that surround your life and others’ all the while taking the hard step of being the understanding party is such a feat of character for me. He was happily taken. Akaashi. That’s enough for me.” Osamu said, faltering at the last word like a wisp in the wind.

Akaashi had barely caught the word that he lifted his gaze to his boss. Under the warm bar lights and the posh backdrop of the nightlife, Osamu’s frame lacked much of the swagger and coolheaded finesse he was known for. Unexpectedly, there was a certain vulnerability on his face, a crease to his brow, a quiver to his lip and a sudden gasp for air. Much like Akaashi’s composure, Osamu’s was also in tatters.

Akaashi swallowed hard, realizing what his probing had done. “I’m sorry. I spoke out of turn.”

“No.” Osamu bellowed, placing a warm, tan hand unto Akaashi’s cold, pale one. His rough fingers slipped between the cracks of slender flesh and hard glass pulling it away from its weak bondage. He drew it closer to the center much like a midpoint between the two men.

“It does sound sad that I never really communicated or allowed myself to really feel them before. Honestly, sometimes I think it’s because I didn’t have the time. However-“ He continues trailing his eyes on their joined hands and instinctively tracing soothing circles over the back of Akaashi’s hands. “I don’t think I can do much about it anymore especially when there are no feelings anymore.” Osamu says that. He says that calmly with a certain wisdom, but perfectly hiding the many promiscuous night on foreign beds and periods of intoxication mulling over his first love. He hides it well, but honors it all together because that pain was what made him all the more wiser, hopefully giving Akaashi a better chance to walk through the pain with more grace than he did. 

Akaashi’s lips pull into a soft curl. “That’s very mature of you Osamu-san.” He says earnestly as he places his other pallor hand over Osamu’s, slotting the spaces against the knuckles of his boss’. The warmth they each held had multiplied tenfold in the mere gesture of the touch. Osamu didn’t stop stroking the soft flesh of Akaashi’s hand and the young man didn’t refuse him that much. The allowance was more of Akaashi’s way of acknowledging that Osamu was someone he did not only follow, but also trust.

“I hope-“ Akaashi begins, flitting his eyes between their hands and Osamu’s gaze. “-I can be as mature as you facing forward.”

That was enough for Osamu. He found there was generally no need to have Akaashi say anything more, neither about Kita nor the kiss he saw tonight. The young man was definitively comforted and reassured that Osamu was ready to wrap things up. The executive raised his hand to the bartender, signaling for the bill.

However, Akaashi felt the need to reciprocate Osamu’s demonstration of vulnerability, like the plump weight of taking your turn to recite the next verse in class. His chest was wrought with both the anxiety and necessity to speak up.

“Wait!” Akaashi said, shooting his hand up to grab Osamu’s. The motion was so sudden and surprising that Osamu had yielded his hand so easily dropping it into the wooden countertop with a soft thud.

“I wasn’t honest when I said I was fine.” Akaashi said to set the record straight. “I really wasn’t. I-“ He faltered, surmising how much he would reveal in the painfully vulnerable space. “I -”

“Don’t.” Osamu cut in, breaking his hand away from Akaashi’s and holding it up to gesture his silence. A moment ago, he watched Akaashi’s eyes wander aimlessly, searching for words to help him unfurl himself so forcefully for Osamu that is pained the man to see. “Don’t open up yourself when you’re not ready. This story I told you isn’t a story I could tell overnight. The confidence, the cadence of my voice and even the narration of events were practiced from years of mulling over it. Whatever it is you’re going through or feeling now, you don’t have to tell me. You don’t have to tell me now.”

_‘I already know.’_

“Like I said, I’ll walk beside you and I’ll pick you up when you fall.” With that Osamu got the bill.

Osamu had taken his word quite literally. Akaashi was a considerable lightweight and was walking flimsily through the corridor of his apartment. Osamu had one hand on his assistant’s lifeless arm over his shoulder and the other securely wrapped on his waist.

Though Akaashi tried to pull his own weight, his feet were heftily dragging through the floor leaving a light trail of rainwater across the hall.

“O-Osamu-san. I’m-“ The young assistant stuttered finding himself in an impeccably compromising situation, one that he would never in his dreams ever place himself in, most especially with the company of Osamu.

“Sh. It’s fine Akaashi. I was the one who invited you out for drinks.” The young CEO laughed off soothing the man with the boyish crinkle of his lips. _‘It’s sweet much like candy, a candy you’d want to get a bite of.’_

Akaashi pressed his lips together hoping the slick swipe of his tongue at the thought.

“Next time though Akaashi-“

The very utterance of his name lights the lightweight’s eyes back to life.

“-I’d like it if you were honest and gave me a head up regarding your low tolerance for alcohol.” Osamu joked, staring at Akaashi’s disheveled face. He would soon learn that was a mistake.

Under the white light of the apartment hall buildings, Osamu’s eyes beheld the very rare flush of Akaashi’s face, how it flowered upon his cheeks like spring did to cherry blossoms. His pink puckered lips looked supple under the light, gleaming of a wetness that Osamu surmised was a sheen of alcohol. _‘Maybe the type I’d want to have a lick at.’_

The CEO’s jaw tightened when he caught himself circling that mental path. Shaking his head, he makes another mistake of staring into Akaashi. He stares deep into the dark blue of his eyes and the young man stares back, much like their nuanced communication, they had said more than they could hope to verbalize. In a split second, they pulled away from each other’s gaze, glancing to the side.

Osamu steadies his breathing, mustering much of himself to ask if they were any closer to his unit. Akaashi, on the other hand, could only manage a hum. “Almost.”

Both parties were oddly aware of each other, where they touched, where they held and how close their faces had been a moment ago. The heat of shared breath lingered on both of their skins. Unintentionally, they both let out a breath, furthering he tension. That is until Osamu bellows a laugh.

The hearty chuckle breaks the tension, evaporating it into the air like a mist in the morning. Osamu crinkled his eyes and flashed another boyish smile mumbling “It must be the alcohol” before dragging Akaashi by the doorway of his home.

The metal door of his home shut close and the light tap of footsteps distanced itself from Akaashi’s place. Finally alone in the threshold of his home, Akaashi sluggishly kicks off his shoes, still intoxicated to care so much about manners and organization. His languid footsteps pad against the wooden floors. All the while he was navigating his kitchen for a glass of water, he couldn’t shake of the thrum of adrenaline and testosterone flooding his system.

He didn’t understand why. No. He didn’t want to understand why.

His slender fingers find a glass at the cupboards and he quickly opens the fridge for chilled water. As he pours the liquid, he recalls how Osamu had looked at him. When he meant looked at him, really looked at him. It was a like a look that one would be given once a man realized that a girl is a woman. Akaashi gulped hard on the icy water, startling his parched throat with its coolness.

He grunted in exasperation as he planted the glass solidly unto the countertop, pressing his lips into a thin line as he remembered how his own body reacted to the stare. It didn’t feel as filthy or slimy as being ogled. No. It was like the eyes of a spectator that had beheld fine art for the first time. His eyes were gradually growing, amazed at the blooming beauty of Akaashi in the dead of night. He felt appreciated and flattered by how Osamu looked that his heart had quickened its pace almost immediately on eye contact. He would never admit it, but his own member started to harden as well.

“Ugh! You can’t have these thoughts about your boss! You’re just getting over the last one!” Akaashi spats to himself before lowering the glass into the sink and trudging into the shower with a huffy attitude.

He was not alone.

Inside a black SUV, Osamu sat still with hands firmly on the wheel tightening at the passing of the seconds. He could go anytime now, but he wouldn’t, not when he was heavily flushed in the face and delirious of the sultry look of Akaashi’s face. He understood why Atsumu had felt so threatened by Akaashi. The raven tresses of his assistant curled finely against the delicate nape of his neck. It felt like silk feathers to Osamu’s fingers. His fair and unblemished skin of the man was so soft and smooth to the touch that it would prod anyone to handle the man gently so as not to leave a bruise.

 _‘However-‘_ Osamu paused in thought as he covered his mouth in deep recollection of the one thing that got him the most- Akaashi’s lips. They were wet and slick coated of alcohol and parted ever so slightly in a seeming invitation. To make matters worse, Akaashi had looked at him in that way.

Osamu took a deep breath as he further sank his face into his hand, replaying how Akaashi’s deep blues searched on Osamu’s like that of a lover nudging and permitting the most intimate of activities. The mere recollection revived the life between Osamu’s legs, twitching slightly at every flash of Akaashi’s intoxicated face.

“Fuck!” Osamu cursed as he slammed his fist into the wheel, struggling to keep things down. Massaging his temple, he concluded that he could simply be in need of some sex. A nice amount of physical activity would do to rid of the restlessness that was unnecessarily riding on the image of his assistant.

He took another deep breath before he reached for his phone, fumbling for contacts and friends he could hit up on a booty call. However, every time he would settle on one, he’d imagine how the night would go, how he’d fuck his partner full bringing a pleasurable pain that would be enough to fill a room of carnal moans. Each time he did so, he couldn’t help but imagine the physically satisfied face of Akaashi cuming to him.

Thud. Out of impulse, the CEO had thrown his phone over the backseat in a fit of rage for being so oddly compelled to fuck Akaashi tonight. His member wasn’t helping. In fact, it was starting to throb. He tossed his head back with eyes steady on the ceiling of the vehicle resigning to one thing- that the alcohol must have gone straight to his dick.

While heaving one last breath, he started the engine revving the vehicle to life. With headlight turned on and wheels angled to exit, Osamu muttered against his clenched jaw, “This is so inappropriate. I need to jerk this off” not entirely sure that there was any material quite as arousing as the look Akaashi gave.

* * *

The next morning, thralls of people rushed to and fro Shinjuku station. Packs of salary men and women marched to the beat of the city grind as the morning light gleamed against the hard taupe tiles. Amongst the throes of people was Atsumu, who was dressed more decadently than the average worker gaining the occasional stares and ogling. His three-piece nude suit stood out from the pallor backdrop of black, white and gray. His physique didn’t help to make him shrink into the crowd. In fact, he towered over most of them.

Less in a hurry, Atsumu ambled through the packed halls with water bottles in both hands and descended staircases to a section of the station that was admittedly less crowded. The deafening quiet had grown louder and louder, magnifying the slightest shuffle and footstep. He didn’t mind that, though, since that meant a more tranquil parting with Kita who was sitting on a bench from afar.

Unlike most of the salarymen and women, Kita would be travelling against the usual stream of workers. He would be going back home to Miyagi. That very thought had hung heavy on Atsumu’s mind since they went to bed last night. Their relationship was a kind that was frequently punctuated with meetings and partings, but never a steady being with one another. It was one of the things that frustrated Atsumu the most, but he tolerated it. He tolerated only because Kita was tolerating is much more gracefully.

Atsumu paused in mid-step as he watched Kita- the man who would so willingly endure being miles away from a lover if that lover were him. Kita sat upright with a relaxed posture all the while flipping through a short novel about politics and the economy which he thought would do well to preoccupy him during the long train ride. Atsumu peered fondly from the corner of the stairs wondering how he did end up with someone as cerebral and as well-mannered as Kita. Even Osamu would muse that question every now and then out of spite.

Some people say that the world is built on chances, likelihoods and probabilities. The mere fact that Japan was never colonized was a great feat of chance owing to the geographic location of its landmass found miles away from the sea route of Spanish conquistadors. How would things turn out if the tectonic plate decided to one day just shift a few more inches than usual? 

Some would say the same goes for love. The prospects of meeting your true love is as bad as finding a needle in a hay stack. Many of those who know of Atsumu and Kita’s relationship would often refer to theirs as heaven sent, a blessing from lady luck. However, if you would ask Atsumu, he would say that would be utter bullshit because he knows all too well that luck had nothing to do with it.

It was in the third grade of primary school that Atsumu first saw Kita. He was just another boy playing amongst many others in the playground poking at the toys in the sandbox. Kita had a quiet and shy characteristic to him. One could say he would often be easily overlooked by the kids around him because of it. Regardless to say, Atsumu would have been one of those kids if it weren’t for that one game- dodgeball.

At that time, playing dodgeball was all the rage amongst kids of Atsumu’s age. Though, unlike the serious sport, the trend had opted the usage of a kooshball- a miniature toy ball with hundreds of rubber filaments that would cushion the blow upon impact. The goal of the game was to kill off all members of the opposing team to claim victory and change roles. Both teams would have turns throwing and running away from the ball. On that day, Atsumu’s team chose to throw.

The teams were decided based on the classes. Atsumu’s class had three other boys, then Osamu and him. While the other class had five other boys- two were named Aran and Kita. Atsumu openly scoffed at the competition finding that there was no competition at all. They would beat them hands down. He was highly confident on their athleticism, especially when he compared his physique to the slender one of Kita’s.

The sun beat harder on the playground that day. The ground was dry crinkling under the soles of the young children’s feet as the runners braced themselves for the attack. Muscles tensed and eyes were wide open in anticipation. A silent whirring of nerves engulfed the field as the two groups stared down at each other like it was a match of their lifetime. Hearts were racing. Breaths were quickening. The wind had died down a long time ago. Everything was still.

On both ends of the soft soil court, Atsumu and Osamu were stationed opposite to each other. The kooshball was in Atsumu’s hand. Because of it, so was everyone’s attention. The child reveled in it with his signature mischievous smile tightly pulled to flash a canine. For a moment, he had control of both order and chaos. Hence, he enjoyed precariously throwing the toy up and down against his palm as if he was playing with everyone’s nerves. With the widening and narrowing of his eyes, he measured the speed and distance he had to throw the item to instantly eliminate a player. All the while he sized each player up by the second, acknowledging and assessing their value by their bodies.

From his analysis, he knew one thing.

 _‘He’d be an easy kill.’_ Or so he thought when his eyes settled and stared straight on Kita.

Oddly, Kita’s caramel eyes lit alive as his body squatted to prepare for a run, muscles tensed up to propel him forward anytime. He was all too aware that he would be the target first. It wouldn’t be surprising. He neither had the body nor had the personality to offer much intimidation to the other kids on the playground.

With the continued thud of the kooshball, Kita narrowed his eyes on Atsumu watching his hand prepare for a throw.

In a mind-bending split second, Atsumu pitched the ball curving it to such a trajectory towards Kita’s ankle. Everyone was waiting. In fact, they were expecting for that snap, that audible thump, that ricochet of plastic and filament off from skin. They were expecting Kita would be dead in an instant. If not, they expected he’d just a have good run and die somewhere in between the throws.

However, the tiny eyes of children- both players and spectators- grew and their mouth fell open as they beheld the scene. Kita’s face was downturned as he knelt to the ground with both hands held where the toy hit. The toy would be found nice and snug in between those pallor, stubby hands of his. They were captured in between. Slowly, Kita got up holding the toy ball by a single string of plastic filament inspecting it like it was a novelty. His classically expressionless face waxed a tight little smirk at Atsumu before he said in an even tone, “Too easy.” He raised two of his fingers into a V showing off to the newly shamed pitched and the crowd that he had earned two lives in the first second of the game.

The children roared and so did Atsumu’s competitive rage.

The game continued under the hot sun with obvious sweat drops on the parched soil and drenched cloths on the young kids’ backs. Pants could be heard throughout their makeshift court. The clamor among those watching continued as Atsumu’s fan base came to the rescue to liven up the team’s morale while, steadily, all the other spectators were starting to have a liking to the unlikely rookie for the day- Kita.

The match was uneven. Atsumu and his powerful throw as well as his telepathic partnership with Osamu on the other side proved worthwhile as they eliminated more than half of the team. The only two left were that of Aran and Kita.

Throughout the game, Kita had stored up so many lives from catching the kooshball that he had the ability to give his extra lives to many of his teammates, inadvertently extending the game than necessary and not giving Atsumu and his friends to play runners at all. However, Kita’s teammates weren’t near as agile as him and would often be eliminated leaving Kita and Aran to really do the legwork.

That left the boy struggling with merely two lives and a draining stamina. Aran had one left and he didn’t look any better.

Atsumu’s browns met with Kita’s and with a click of his tongue he made a wide toss, not to any opponent, but to Osamu. The twin caught on and quickly snatched that ball in the air to throw it sharply on Aran, making an audible thump and killing off the boy from the game. The tall, lanky boy scoffed at the move and waved off a hand to Kita telling him to keep his extra life.

The young boy was reluctant but understood. Recess was nearly coming to an end. If Kita could stay alive ‘til then, they could very much say that their class were the victors of the game.

Atsumu knew this much as well. Licking the sweat off his lips, he enflamed the need to kill Kita off by tenfold with the adrenaline pumping in his veins. It was now or never. In single blink of an eye, Atsumu flung the ball low, hoping to his the flailing legs of Kita as he made a run. The young boy spun around at the same time that the kooshball ricocheted to the other side- to Osamu. The twin caught the ball and quickly reciprocated the action creating a cycle of pitches and runs.

Everyone held their breath as it was excruciating for both sides maintaining an onslaught of movement with little effect to offer a victor. Time was ticking and the crowds had boiled down to the players themselves, waiting for either side to let up.

Kita was the one that everyone was especially anticipating for. Much like the beginning when he was assumed to be an easy prey, he was assumed to be the first one to lose concentration.

The young boy was panting heavily and his legs were near trembling as he squatted again, watching the ball traverse over and under him while he kept all his limbs in mind as he ran the other way. It was mentally and physically taxing, but amazingly Kita’s stamina was pulling through.

“Five more minutes Kita!” Aran shouted from the periphery, emboldening Atsumu’s pitches.

 _‘Just die already!’_ Atsumu thought as they pummeled Kita back and forth until they heard an audible thud.

Atsumu’s eyes morphed into orbs as the plastic kooshball had met the ground. Kita’s face was obscured from view as his other hand cradled his elbow- the point of impact. It was silent, but only for a second until someone roared.

“One more!” The crowd of players were going crazy.

 _‘One minute.’_ Kita thought. He lifted his gaze with a determined glare as he hung to dear life. All of a sudden the anticipation and breath-holding from a while ago had turned into a dynamic frenzy. Players from both classes were jumping in their places pounding and displacing the dry earth completely. Atsumu’s classmates steadily cheered “One more!” whereas Kita’s classmates hollered to Kita “Keep running!”

_‘Five.’_

As soon as Kita got a grip of his bearings, he ran to the other side. Atsumu already had the ball in his hand and whirred it through the wind. _‘Just a few more minutes!’_ Atsumu yelled through his head. Back and forth the kooshball went between the throwers and Kita. This time Kita wasn’t taking the onslaught as well as before. There were many near misses and his form was splaying all over the air showing that his first hit of the game had messed him up as mentally as it had physically.

_‘Four.’_

The rhythm of Kita’s breath had grown ragged while the pace of Atsumu’s throws were only getting steadier.

Kita’s eyes shot from one direction to the other, instinctively predicting throws and catches.

_‘Three.’_

Atsumu was aware of the time and momentarily raised a brow to his brother on the other side. It was fleeting, but clear enough for the other twin to catch on. With a nod, they proceeded with their plan.

_‘Two.’_

Osamu gave the plastic ball a snapping throw supposedly targeting it straight to Kita who dodged it in time. Unfortunately, Osamu wasn’t aiming for Kita.

_‘One.’_

He was aiming for the hand behind Kita.

Peals of the school bell rang. Atsumu chucked the ball towards Kita and the game ended in a split second.

Many of the kids ran back after what they saw. It was only Kita, Atsumu and Osamu left on the field. The sun’s heat and light had waned with a passing cloud, shading the parties in a cool shadow alongside the caress of a friendly wind. Among the three of them, only one had a smile. It was a smirk so tight and high that it was almost near menacing. Then again, the boy had very few opportunities to practice it.

Yes. That boy was Kita who had caught the kooshball in his hand and, with that, all of Atsumu’s attention ever since.

“’Tsumu give it up!” Osamu would whine ahead of him as they trudged back home.

“Tch. What do you mean ‘Samu?”

“You’re still upset that you lost to that kid.” Osamu quirked up with the knowingness of an older brother.

“Wouldn’t anyone be? We could have totally whooped his ass!” Atsumu scoffed with his arms crossed and his tiny mouth in a pout.

“Yeah right! I have news for you. Everyone calls that kid the dodgeball king now.” Osamu teased, happily poking at his brother’s easily bruised pride.

“Hmph! We’ll just overthrow him tomorrow!” Atsumu stammered with a flush to his face.

“You’re not updated huh?” Osamu asked with a quizzical brow as he turned his face back to his lagging twin.

“What?”

“That kid’s ankle got sprained, but he didn’t speak up. He just kept moving like his life depended on it. After the game, the teachers brought him straight to the clinic and he was told not to play for a while.” Osamu said in an almost factual tone, devoid of sympathy or kindness.

“No way!” Atsumu erupted, almost startling Osamu into a fall.

However, it was very much that way. Kita had to sit alone in the classroom with Aran the next day. The tall child gave him company as all the other kids would play.

That day, Osamu had left Atsumu alone to his own antics giving the boy the opportunity to see the state of the dodgeball king. Peering from the side of the classroom door, Atsumu stealthily watched as Kita would laugh to Aran’s newest joke or arch a brow to his latest story at home. It was obvious that the two were awfully close and that gave Atsumu a little pang of anxiety of how to approach the two who were getting along so well.

The kid gulped hard as leaned his back hard into the door. To say Atsumu was good at making friends would be a mistake. He wasn’t. To be more precise, he wasn’t good at intentionally making them. What friendships he nurtured in the classroom and on the playground were made out of respect for how quick he could pick up on things and how strong he was at games. None were really out of his own volition. They were more like a necessity. The following year, those friendships would fade away into the wind as well.

Atsumu’s lips were still pressed into each other as he thought of the best way to say hi. Suddenly, his eyes narrowed at two girls walking by the hall, exchanging snacks from their own lunchboxes. It was a sweet sight as the two girls exchanged giggles and friendly wide-eyed faces over simple treats that you could buy at any convenience store. However, it was the thought that was very endearing. Slowly, Atsumu peered back into the room watching the two boys burst into laughter again. He watched as Kita’s eyes were on Aran’s the same way his was on Atsumu’s during the game. They were focused, attentive and clear.

Instinctively, the young boy pursed his lips into a pout and walked away. Pitter patter, he would argue, was his feet against the pavement, however, you could always argue back that it was also the sound that his heart went as he went back to his own classroom, fumbled amongst the leftover treats in his lunch box and ran out the door.

It was small. It was only once. It was completely out of the blue. However, Atsumu stood there with steadfast eyes as he planted a small unopened milk carton on Kita’s table, earning the wide-eyed stare from the two boys.

Sweat drops formed on the child’s head whispering doubts and anxiety. However, all that went away when Kita reached out for the carton with his equally pale hand and punctured the hole with the straw Atsumu brought.

“Hm. Strawberry flavored.”

Atsumu quickly nodded with a strained expression. Then, like magic, the tension in his muscles relaxed as Kita’s face waxed a gentle smile to the boy.

“I like strawberry.” Kita said.

Back in the present, the older and wiser Atsumu smiled as he took his seat beside Kita and planted a cold water bottle between them much like when they were kids. It was a simple drink, but Kita smile kindly all the same.

“Thank you Atsumu.” He evenly said closing his book and settling it on his other side. His motions were swift and graceful as he grabbed for the plastic. Atsumu couldn’t take it.

“How can you be so calm whenever we’re parting?” He said without much a thought, bereft of fear of the direction of the conversation or ill feelings it could coax since they’ve known each other for so long.

“Hm.” The other mused as he twisted the cap off from his water bottle. “I guess –“ He said before dipping his lips into the cold water. “-I’m well assured that the man I’m in a relationship will try as hard as I would in keeping it.”

“Oh?” Atsumu said coaxing a brow up. “What makes you so confident?”

Kita snorted, twisting the cap of his bottle back on. “Well, based on your track record back in the day. Ever since dodgeball, you never went a day without passing by my class.” Kita quirked a sly smile. “Be honest. You fell in love with me at grade three.”

“Hmph!” Atsumu huffed, folding his arms against his chest, lest his own heart betray him. “Don’t be cocky Kita. You fell in love with me.”

“Oh? When do you suppose so?”

Atsumu’s expression was serious this time as it lifted up towards the station ceiling. “Every day that I would stop by, no matter how quick it was.” Atsumu smugly retorted. He looked down to his partner expecting an equally nasty reply. Instead, he was met with a pink flowering of blush across Kita’s face, from the tips of his ear to the bridge of his nose. The man visibly swallowed his own words before he turned away eyeing the train approaching from afar.

He grabbed his suitcase and stood up. Right before he joined the short lines of people readying for embarkation, Kita managed to turn back to Atsumu to faintly whisper “Maybe.”

Though it was truly at the Samaura Park that their lives had been joined by the hip, it was actually in the small and fleeting moments that Atsumu would consistently pass by that had Kita superbly hung up on the friendship. There was something sweet and earnest with finding someone who constantly tried to reach out at the very least. There was something genuine. Even after Kita’s sprain had healed, Atsumu would still pass by the two in the playground to offer a “Hi.” Kita always thought it was his sign of respect after the game. However, little by little, his hi had turned into a “Hello.” His hello turned into a “How are you?” His how are you turned into “How was your day?” All of these short, but consistent interactions accumulated in Kita in such a way that it was hard not just become friends on that fateful day at the park. In fact, maybe it was merely natural. Maybe, it was as natural as falling in love too.

Atsumu cracked a smile and hurriedly embraced Kita from behind, startling the man forward.

“Atsumu!” Kita would reprimand, but not without indulging his lover with the expanse of his milky white neck where he nuzzled his lips and breathed Kita’s sweet scent against.

Luck had nothing to do with it. We make our own luck in this world.

* * *

The following week, Akaashi would have to meet the creative team and the campaign model for the first time. To say that it was a simple task would be a mistake. This would be the first time that he would be interacting face-to-face with the creative team and, though they were in good terms, the creatives and the management department were historically at odds with each other.

The great debate over quality versus time and cost would always be the looming elephant in the room when it came to creative work and operational output.

This first meeting would set the tone for the kind of relationship both teams would have with each other. It would be the great determinant for many more discussions and negotiations in the future moving forward. However, it wasn’t the wildest variable.

On the other side of the picture was the campaign model from America. He seemed overly rambunctious on the phone with Atsumu when they were clearing the last details of his flight. In fact, he was so terribly loud that Akaashi could make out that he had very much absorbed the American accent and even the cultural swagger in his conversation. It all seemed incredibly intimidating to listen to. Fluttering his eyes shut, the young assistant silently prayed that the model still knew how to speak Japanese. Though English wasn’t necessarily a weakness, it wasn’t necessarily comfortable either.

“This would be so much easier with-“

He paused biting his tongue before he could utter his name. _‘Kita.’_ The former boss’ name resonated in Akaashi’s head like a bell precisely being hit to repetition. Once more, he recalled the wet and worn kiss Kita shared with his colleague- Atsumu.

The young man’s brows snapped up out of spite as he clicked his tongue at the very thought of someone else giving Kita such a kiss. It boiled a certain pungent amount of envy in the pit of his stomach that Akaashi visibly struggled holding face in front of the twin. Whenever Atsumu came by to the office, there was a certain tight tension in the air, like taut cables that held Akaashi together. Every of Atsumu’s actions, even the smallest, somewhat stretched the fabric of those cables, testing and twisting the very way Akaashi composed himself. He would swallow his ego and proceed with every endeavor with an almost procedural coldness out of fear for snapping out of nowhere.

Akaashi very well knew that the man didn’t mean to come off irritating. In fact, he really wasn’t objectively speaking. There was just an uncharacteristic amount of pettiness watering out of Akaashi’s mouth that he’d bit back into terse replies to keep himself from being a sass around the office. Acid. Akaashi hated to admit it, but anything regarding Atsumu would reek of acid in his mouth. That was how petty he would get.

 _‘However-‘_ Akaashi thought as he stepped in front of a mirror to smoothen out the velveteen tie of his three-piece navy suit, relishing the soft texture of the article as he grazed it against his fingertips. Along with the pettiness, there was something equally unsettling.

The raven-haired man straightened up as he looked at his fully suited figure in the mirror remembering this was how Osamu wanted to see him from now on. He gulped. He was sheening with satin, silk and tweed, fabrics so tempting to the touch that you would want to brush your hands against them for the mere benefit of the senses. Or maybe, for Akaashi, there were a specific set hands he had in mind. Rough, tan and calloused ones.

A slight dusting of blush crept up from his neck as he was failing to hold down the quiver of his thin lip. He fluttered his lashes up, staring at the horribly abashed face he made at the thought. That very unsettling thought was none other than Osamu.

He was beginning to be far too mindful of Osamu to a fault.

The past week had dragged on excruciatingly long for Akaashi as he carefully treaded between resuming work as usual versus maintaining a safe distance from Osamu. Whenever he was too close, he could remember the night Osamu took him home all too vividly.

Though initially being a night out for heartfelt exchanges, the night had ended in a grim walk of shame to his apartment unit. He cursed the gods for his genetics, specifically that of his lack of tolerance for alcohol. What was supposedly a simple drop-off at his door had turned for the unexpected when Osamu, in the middle of a banter, had gave Akaashi a face.

What that face was, Akaashi would never be able to pinpoint out. However, he knew its effect. No. In fact, he felt it like a hypnotic trance surging places in his body he didn’t know could come alive. 

The young man swallowed in front of the mirror watching his Adam’s apple bob in his throat, much like how his heart did when Osamu’s dark grey eyes met his. His were heavily lidded, smoking with wisps and whirlpools of desire from under hooded shadows that did well to obscure a fire in him. It was a fire that Akaashi wanted to see, touch and taste like a forbidden fruit that only promised a sweetness worth foregoing the heavens for. He wanted that pit in him.

Akaashi gasped from his own thought, watching his own expression morph into the likeness of a thirsting animal. He had to calm himself down, most especially the feelings between his legs almost perking up. In shame, he buried his face into his pale palms, willing his feelings to go down by concentrating on the hundreds of pages of paper work he had to straighten out after the photoshoot.

White papers have never been as attractive as they were now to the raven-haired man who was still struggling to compose himself. Doing one last comb through his raven locks, he did one more look at himself beholding the product of Osamu’s own machinations.

Impressively, the suit did hold up to expectations. It did not only slim down Akaashi’s waist, but also built up his chest and broadened his shoulders. What height he lacked had been easily doctored by the cuts of the fabric pants that feigned a loftiness to his legs. Last, but not the least, was the tiny vest that hugged Akaashi’s torso like a lover’s embrace accentuating the contours of his pectorals down to the silhouette of his abdomen. It was very much like Osamu to insert at least one article of his tight-fitting style into the mix.

The young man’s shoulders sagged a little at the thought of wide eyes ogling him as much as others would to Osamu on the daily. Akaashi heaved a deep breath preparing himself for the anticipated change of interactions as he ambled towards the doorway to slip on his new leather shoes.

 _‘Too many variables.’_ Akaashi thought as concerned piled after concern in his head. If it wasn’t the creative team, then it was the model. If it wasn’t the model, then it was Atsumu. If it wasn’t Atsumu, it was Osamu. If it wasn’t Osamu, then it was this teeny tiny vest that Akaashi thought would burst over the day. He sighed as he twisted the cold metal knob open. _‘May the good lords of capitalism be with me.’_ He silently prayed before he trotted off.

In the company headquarters, Akaashi had walked with same stride he always had cutting through the crowds of co-workers with easy, quiet steps. However, his newly fashioned appearance had garnered him a new kind of treatment. Much to his chagrin, he was not only met with trailing eyes, but also with hushed gossips and flustered whispers. He swore he had merely exchanged a kind greeting with Yachi-san, an old friend, and his cerulean look had incapacitated the woman into a stuttering mess. Did he really change that much from his usual appearance by merely donning a new suit? Akaashi mused as the elevator doors came to a shut. Examining himself, he looked up and down his form once again, paying no mind to whatever other lookers may have noticed.

However, the young man started to twist himself, turning his back to the door and looking over his shoulder to examine his backside. What he saw made him incredibly flustered. Apparently, the tiny vest wasn’t the only tight thing around his body. Without knowing it, his pants had snugly fit on his buttocks in such a way that his body’s curve practically bulged from his slender figure further accentuating the arch of his back.

“What!?” Akaashi exclaimed as he grabbed his far too snug cheeks and frantically tried to shift the material around them, hoping there was some kind of space he could find to hide them underneath. He attempted to lower his suit jacket, wondering if the tails would be long enough to cover his bum, but even that wouldn’t do it. The young assistant was heavily exasperated furrowing his brows and pulling his small mouth into a childish pout. _‘Osamu.’_ Akaashi grunted in his head as he also surmised that the security CCTV head may happen on the ridiculous scene of the executive assistant groping his own ass. _‘That was fine.’_ It would be one onlooker out of many. It was the many more onlookers, bystanders and partners Akaashi was bound to meet today that bothered him so deeply.

Ironically, he felt terribly naked in spite of being heavily clothed. He grunted again as he placed his slim hands over the fabric of his bum, twisting and shifting the material hoping to find the secret space where they could sit hidden from the public eye. At this point, the amount of frustration built up on the young man like muscle knots forming on his shoulders as he twisted and bent backwards to get a good look on the angle.

The entire endeavor was getting to Akaashi to the point that he let out an aggravated groan lamenting on the fact that he had given his boss too much freedom with himself. Thump. His forehead met the cold metal panel of the car as he bent forward and pushed his ass out in frustration. Elbows against the rail, he held his head up with his pallor hands as he resigned to his fate for the rest of the day. The reality was that he was being a bundle of nerves and the ass pants were merely an excuse to fuss over something. He slapped the cheeks of his face before he did one last thing to get him going for the day.

In the thrall of calming himself down, he swung his long arms over the length of his torso, slapping his two tight ass cheeks with an audible smack that he knew left them bouncing for a moment. He looked over his backside smiling satisfyingly at the nice snap it made until horror washed over his face.

He had been so caught up in his mental throes that he didn’t realize that the elevator cart had stopped. He didn’t hear that the doors had pinged open. He didn’t, in his right mind, pay attention to the tall, blocky figure that had towered before the doorway watching and amusing himself with a nicely presented bum.

 _‘God, take me now.’_ Akaashi thought as he narrowed his eyes on a gray-haired, sculpted figure that held down the slots of the elevator doors with his brawn arms. The athletic suited man hummed in pleasure as he thumbed the curve of his lip with a sly smile. His golden eyes flickered to Akaashi’s face with a certain fire. This time the flames stoked weren’t simmering hot like Osamu’s. No. These were outright hellraising.

The stranger stepped into the car finally letting the elevator doors close behind him and enclosing the two into the small space in a matter of seconds. Tension thick in the air, the stranger merely offered a few words to Akaashi dumbstruck face. 

“You got a tight ass there. I’m Bokuto Koutaro by the way.” The man said like it was a matter of fact.

Akaashi swore he could have died right then and there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be honest, my favorite scene here would be the bar scene. There's a lot of tension and loose ends I wanted to resolve, but also realistically. I didn't want to make this outright about cutting loose ends because, in reality, some things are settled in the air, wafting and dispersing slowly into the sky. Not everything actually gets confronted and maybe it's fine that they never would be. I hope my earnestness in trying to create both a wholesome and realistic conversation came through in that scene. Ahahaha I really struggled trying to find how Osamu would handle it. It's so tricky, but I'm proud of the Osamu I've written so far.
> 
> When I was writing this, I was listening to Taylor Swift's Folklore on repeat. Whenever I think about some scenes these songs came into mind. Hehe maybe give it a listen and lemme know what you think!
> 
> August- When Akaashi sat in that bar  
> Invisible String- that Atsukita backstory
> 
> Thank you for reading! Please stay tuned!


	5. Hope and Peace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Good morning Bokuto-san. I am Akaashi Keiji. I will be heading the Alpha campaign.” Akaashi utters redeeming himself.  
> Akaashi lifts his gaze, settling his eyes on the athlete and expecting a cocky and smug face akin to that of Atsumu’s. 
> 
> ‘After all, birds of a feather flock together.’

_‘It was the alcohol.’_

He was sure of it. Osamu had settled his barbells down the mat with a gentle thump. His chest rose and fell in steady breaths as he clung his hands to his torso from the welcomed exhaustion. He smiled. He loved mornings. It was his reset button. No matter what were his flops yesterday or his sins the night before, there was something about the morning that set him at ease. Maybe it was the surge of energy from a restful sleep or maybe it was the abundance of time at the start of the day. Nonetheless, the lightness of the morning always rendered Osamu terribly and, to some, annoyingly coolheaded.

The same would go for whatever you might call what happened last night.

_'What happened was just the human body being absolutely physical.'_ He thought as he drowned in flash backs of the night with images of pink dusted cheeks and lush puckered lips. He narrows his eyes on the view of his wide window, indulging the distraction. He watched as the sun transformed the earth into a canvass of gold flecked leaves and orange-stained earth. None of it, though, seemed to seep into his room.

His windows were thick allowing only a visibly decent view of the sun-kissed world, but never welcoming any warmth into the inside. Much like the white glaring lights of his room, Osamu’s world was terribly cold. Because of that, his mornings were too.

Ambling in with a post-workout flushed face, Osamu began to prepare breakfast. He found the activity more of a supplement to jumpstart his day rather than a chore. It was a nice breathing space from which he could transition from being an adrenaline-pumped sweat-stained musclehead and into the corporate worker who had to get prepped and pressed for a nine to five job in an enclosed box once again.

In spite of that image, the young CEO had a skip to his step as he subtly bobbed his head back and forth assuming his position at the counter before he attempted to hum to the tune of his favorite feel good song- the remix of R. Kelly’s Ignition.

_‘Now usually, I don’t do this but uh…’_

The memory of the swagger of the song takes Osamu home. His body bops in time with the beat in his head. His body starts swaying side-to-side as he reaches for the pans above him. He alternates between sharp inhales of breath as Osamu spares no effort to get the song’s beat and melody down. All the while doing so, his hands and eyes easily find their way to his implements and ingredients rendering an almost fluid dance against the thrum of his voice.

His body relishes the motions feeling every emotion emitted by the buzz of his closed lips, lips that have pursed and pressed upon every fragile whim from R. Kelly. That is until merely humming cannot satisfy anymore. Taking cautionary side glances, he releases the pink flesh from each other’s hold and unleashes his low husky voice that contrasted the pop of the song.

_So baby gimme that toot toot_

_Lemme give you that beep beep_

_Runnin her hands through my ‘fro_

_Bouncin’ on 24’s_

_While they sayin’ on the radio_

_It’s the remis to ignition_

_Hot and fresh out the kitchen_

_Mama rollin’ that body_

_Got every man in here wishin’_

_Sippin’ on coke and rum_

_I’m like so what I’m drunk_

_It’s the freakin’ weekend baby_

_I’m about to have me some fun_

Soft steam wafted over the range hood as Osamu finished the last of the omelets on the pan. Of course, he does so while bouncing and body-rolling over the range making sure to get into the flow of R. Kelly’s rhyme before Atsumu could wake up. God forbid Atsumu walk in on him again like the last time he walked on him singing to Whitney Houston’s I Will Always Love You in university. He never heard the end of it from Atsumu since then. Now, he’s been hogged by his embarrassment to only sing whenever he was absolutely sure Atsumu was still asleep. It was one of the reasons he always opted to waking up a tad bit earlier than he needed to. Aside from breakfast, he could belt out to Bohemian Rhapsody all morning.

The thought made him smile. _‘Maybe tomorrow I’ll do a run through of Britney Spears.’_ Osamu was shy but never discriminative when art was art.

He expertly slid his fluffy creation over a plate full of bacon, toast and rice. The light-yellow egg jiggled satisfyingly into its own corner of the white ceramic prompting an accomplished stance from the young man and ending R. Kelly’s song for the morning.

Osamu happily scurried off with two plates in his hands. After settling them down, he couldn’t help but appreciate the faint yet fragrant steam of aroma floating in the air from the dishes. It whiffed of rosemary, parsley, mint and paprika creating an almost Cajun dry rub scent that made you salivate on instinct. Seizing the opportunity, Osamu snatched his phone from the counter and began a multitude of back-bending and leg-squatting angles of the plates, proceeding with utmost determination to produce a photo that would equal to how wonderful it would taste.

"Sometimes I wonder if you should have been a chef or food blogger." A voice croaked from the second floor. Still decked in his loungewear, Atsumu rubbed an eye as he pulled his groggy mug into a yawn.

"Me too." Osamu joked as he proudly beheld his dishes to his brother. “Maybe food blogging is as close as I could go.”

Atsumu offered a slight shrug both entertaining and encouraging the thought as much as he could that early in the morning.

"You know the drill."

The younger twin scoffed and waved off his brother. "Yeah, I'll make the coffee." He said with a groan as he whirred the coffee machine to life. Osamu stepped out of the house, proceeding to pick up the daily newspaper from the mail.

All the while Atsumu watched him out of the corner of his eye whispering “It’s not like I could disown you over a song.”

Atsumu almost always hears Osamu sing in the morning. It’s his incognito alarm clock. However, he always makes sure to get out of his bed a few minutes later so his twin could savor a few more minutes of Celine Dion or the Beatles. It was an inconvenience but a lesser evil than the guilt he felt when Osamu stopped singing completely back in university.

Atsumu has observed enough of his brother to know that, aside from food, music was important to him. Whenever he could afford to, he’d try curating a new playlist of old songs. There was something about Osamu and old music as if he was an old soul himself. In any case, he loved his playlists and saved it for himself to enjoy in solo car rides or for studying alone with. Never had he opted to share them. Atsumu only knew by taking peeks from passing by.

_‘Maybe if you let more people saw that side of you, you’d find someone who’d stay in the morning to sing with you…’_

The coffee machine finally beeped into life, waking Atsumu from his thoughts. Bringing the stoneware mugs to the counter, he lifted the coffee pot to pour a hefty amount of caffeine in each cup assuring that they would last the day. He approached the table and settled the two mugs unto their saucers just as his brother came in flicking through the newspaper.

“Damage control?”

“Yeah for damage control.” Osamu replied as he sat down with the paper in his hands.

“Put it away! You haven’t even worn a suit yet and you’re all up on work already!”

The older chuckled submitting to the simple plea.

Mornings are important for Osamu because it was his reset button. No matter what happened yesterday or the day before, he could go on knowing today could be a different story.

He hoped.

_‘It was just the alcohol.’_ Osamu repeated to himself.

* * *

Still flustered, Akaashi straightened himself out, creating distance between him and the campaign model joining the elevator car. Quickly composing himself, he manages to muster the courage to face the athlete.

“Good morning Bokuto-san. I am Akaashi Keiji. I will be heading the Alpha campaign.” Akaashi utters redeeming himself.

Akaashi lifts his gaze, settling his eyes on the athlete and expecting a cocky and smug face akin to that of Atsumu’s _._

_‘After all, birds of a feather flock together.’_

Surprisingly, the sly smile of the brawny man had eased into a gentle curve with a flash of interest in his eye.

“Oh yes! Tsum-Tsum told me about you!” He said with unwarranted volume.

Akaashi was slightly taken aback, but he wasn’t certain at what exactly. The thought of a ferocious tiger like Atsumu being called _Tsum-Tsum_ with his knowledge and consent was far-fetching. Then, there was the ear-perking, but much more realistic fact that Atsumu may have said certain things about him. He wasn’t quite sure what they were, but judging from the earnest twinkle in the athlete’s eye, it couldn’t be malicious at the very least.

“Hey Akaashi.”

The assistant was slightly startled at the attention. “Yes Bokuto-san?”

“Tsum-Tsum told me you were the one heading this campaign and the one who proposed the new direction.”

“Ah yes.” Akaashi said all the while thinking, _‘Was that all he said?’_

“Oh!” Bokuto let out a prolonged coo accompanied with an excited grin. “That’s amazing Akaashi!” Bokuto’s voice hitched up a little before he wagged his finger in the air. “Most executives in this country don’t really include or talk about the LGBTQI community. That’s why when Tsum-Tsum told me about you, it was so refreshing to learn that someone in your position was being vocal about it.“ Bokuto’s grin lifted to flash his pearly whites.

_‘I don’t know about being vocal, but-‘_ Akaashi thought as he witnessed the man flutter in his own joy and passion for the advocacy.

_‘Aliveness.’_ Akaashi thought. There was something with Bokuto as if he was engulfed in some invisible flame that rendered him unperturbed and impervious to afterthoughts of others’ opinions. As the athlete went rambling on without ever much of a though of whether Akaashi entertained it or not, it was utterly apparent that he was consumed by one thing-what he believed in. It was riveting as it was infectious.

All of a sudden, maybe Akaashi wanted to be vocal. Turning his head to the wide-grinned athlete, Akaashi could very much say what aliveness looked like.

Aliveness was Bokuto.

“I wanted to see what kind of executive you were.”

Akaashi’s mouth slightly rounded into a smile. “Well then, I hope I’ve met your expectations Bokuto-san.” Akaashi said in jest.

The athlete’s mouth waned with a childish pout. “No.” He huffed as he pointed his nose towards the ceiling.

The gesture caught Akaashi off guard.

Ping. The elevator door opened.

“You’re so much more!” He said with a saccharine smile as he stepped out the door, leaving Akaashi completely incapacitated in the elevator car.

_‘Was that something good or bad?’_ He would never figure that out as the athlete gave him a raised-brow look. “Akaaaaashi! Aren’t you coming?”

The familiar call of his name made him jolt forward as he was coming to follow suit, but not before the shadow of Bokuto’s back dawned on him reminding him of another man whose wide back he’d been missing. It seemed to Akaashi that following behind broad shoulders was something he was destined to keep on doing.

“Please Bokuto-san.” He politely smiled, remembering what he was here for. “Let me lead the way.”

“Sure Akaashi! I’m in your care!” The man beamed excitedly oozing a lightheartedness that made heads turn throughout the floor. _‘Definitely his good looks too.’_ Akaashi thought as office workers and production crews murmured and ogled in the background.

Akaashi glanced back at their poster boy. The athlete seemed to be pre-occupied interacting with every living thing. He cooed and cawed at the new faces and waved with a toothy smile to several of the crew and employees. He even gave little too big of an interest to a line of trailing plants by the office cubicles saying “It’s healthier having a plant around.”

Akaashi was quick to assess that Bokuto was very down-to-earth. He took things in and the man had an easiness with everything.

Everything, but grace that is.

A large thump and a great scattering of paper were heard in the background. As Akaashi looked back, he saw a snow of white upon their feet made of corporate processed papyrus. Some were upon their shoes and others were fluttering against the AC’s current. Nonetheless, the most gawking image would be that of a burly and stocky professional athlete raising his arms into the air, frantic and keen, on trying to catch every invisibly winged paper in an attempt to right his wrong.

“I’m so sorry!” He cried out to the employees who were helping Bokuto pick up the fallen papers while giggling.

_‘The man indeed had no finesse.’_ Akaashi thought. _‘However-‘_

Akaashi watched as the grown man bowed repetitively, scratching the back of his head with an undeniable blush of embarrassment. He wanted to be earnest so he made sure to help stack the papers back into the pile again. Afterwards, he offered Akaashi a sheepish smile and a mouthed “Sorry!”.

_‘He too is refreshing.’_ Akaashi waved off the apology.

The walls were covered with panels holding rolls of black, grey and white that would be used as backdrops for the shoot. The crew alongside their lighting and photography equipment composed the space into quite a set. The cold whiteness of light bounced against reflector after reflector and the floor was littered with slithering wires making ends meet.

All the while this was happening, people dressed in black casually navigated through the space with eyes so accustomed with the blaring brightness and feet instinctively shuffling over snakes of plastic. It was quite a spectacle to see, much like a musical production wherein every scene was a stage and every individual had a role. Each motion was precise and each line delivered was necessary. There was no time for dilly-dallying in the space. More so that the head was none other than Hitoka Yachi.

Akaashi swallowed hard as he spotted the young blonde woman on the other side of the room. Luckily, he and Bokuto had separated ways as the stylists had to start preparing him immediately. Akaashi wouldn’t find it comfortable to walk in the revered studio space of Yachi with Bokuto possibly knocking things back and forth.

Dressed in a pristinely white button-down dress shirt and a blue pencil skirt was Yachi. Her sleeves were rolled up and neatly folded by her elbows and her heals clicked audbly against the concrete floor, bringing everyone’s attention to any of her movements.

Outside the studio, Yachi was an amiable and impressionable character with her round eyes and her pleasant personality. However, once she stepped into the workspace, be it the creatives department office or the studio, she was very keen in doing everything right. It’s in her being obstinate that the creatives department was always able to deliver.

Akaashi and Yachi’s eyes met. The young woman’s gaze narrowed into a half-hearted squint before signaling Akaashi to come to her side with a gentle side nod of her head. Akaashi sighed. As much as he was already aware of the colossal landscape of equipment, wires, lights as well as quickly moving crew members, he was also being made aware of his terribly tight arse space. He furrowed his brows as he gritted his teeth into his first step thinking of only one thing- _‘Curse you Osamu!’_

“You finally made it Akaashi.” Yachi giggled. Akaashi flashed a strained smile as he gripped against his thighs from such limited movement across the space. _‘Who knew proper buttock allowance in fabric was so important in limbic movement.’_

“I’m glad to be here Yachi. I’ve always wanted to see how your magic works.”

The short girl gave off a soft laugh. “It’s not magic Akaashi. It’s just really good people.” Her eyes surveyed her colleagues hard at work coordinating with the crew. At that moment, Akaashi knew Yachi would make a wonderful leader in the creatives department. It was a mental note he made sure to burn in his brain so he could put in a good word to Osamu and Yachi’s boss.

Weirdly, Osamu was nowhere in sight. Akaashi had almost forgotten about the CEO within ten minutes of talking to Bokuto. It was a strange, but grateful realization. He had only realized in that moment that most of his days had always been consumed with Osamu- considering Osamu, prediction Osamu and talking with Osamu. To not do so for quite a while was what Akaashi would call refreshing.

He looked from side-to-side admittedly searching for tufts of grey in the room, but there were none. Oddly enough, it was disappointing.

Akaashi bit back his lip reprimanding himself from summoning faint recollections of the musk of alcohol and aromatic chemical sweetness; the way his eyes were overcast with shadows from his lashes and the low and rough husk of his voice as he said his name. Akaashi slightly tilted his head up biting hard into his cheek until he tasted iron.

_‘This was no place for a crush.’_

“Akaashi!” An unapologetic volume of his name boomed through the room.

The source emerged from the changing room dressed in the company’s latest line. Bokuto had been fashioned with a soft and thick dark grey training jacket lined with trimmings of red. The taut muscles of his legs were warmly covered with athleisure pants resembling joggers creating a relaxed look. Lastly, he donned the company’s signature Alpha Model 1.0 shoes designed with eye-catching red compression lines and sleeves and white rubber soles that swelled up at the heel for full impact.

“What do you think?” The athlete cooed as he strapped his hands to his waist and puffed up his chest for Akaashi to see. The gesture itself merited the smiles and eyes of the staff in the room. Bokuto made it hard to take him seriously, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t serious. He was most certainly serious about his job and about the campaign. Akaashi saw that very clearly as Bokuto seemed so determined to get his approval.

“You look great Bokuto-san.” He began hoping that the tumble of words would stop the pull of his lips and the crinkle of his eye.

“Thanks Akaashi!” The twinkle in his eye grew with a gush as he was ushered to the platform where he was expected to pose.

Heeding instructions from the photographer time-to-time, Bokuto’s body would shift and transition from one pose to another with the flash of the camera. Though he was technically turned away from Akaashi, the young executive had enough of a view to see the stable stances, long-standing holds and far back stretches Bokuto had to make to follow the photographer’s composition.

It was an odd moment to appreciate. Akaashi always thought such setups had more of a vanity to them. Yet, while watching the photoshoot Akaashi discerned that modelling in itself really was a profession of hard work as well.

With his dark raven eyes, he surmised the small nuances of Bokuto’s face- how he’d tip his head a bit higher to optimize the junction of his nose or how he’d tilt slightly to the side to create a continuity of his shoulders. He’d conjure up new movements, from the hunching of his shoulders to the tiny lift of his ankle. All these things were easily overlooked by our eyes, but seldom appreciated for the art that it was against glossy magazine sheets.

It was much more apparent that, for Bokuto, the shoot was for the campaign. The art was necessary to invoke whatever call and attention that could be elicited from its viewers. Such an aliveness alighted something so bright that even Akaashi was enraptured in how he shined like a star in the moment.

Ping.

Akaashi’s thoughts were ripped apart at the reminder of his job-his phone. He grabbed the device from his pocket. With a simple tap, a message box appeared having come from Osamu.

**11:30 am**

**Sorry Akaashi, I won’t be able to pass by the office today. I’ll be attending to matters with Chairman Kenma. I trust you’ll be able to deal with things.**

**11:32 am**

**It’s not a problem. I’m overseeing the photoshoot with Bokuto-san currently. I’ll give you updates later in the day.**

**11:35 am**

**That’s great. Lunch is nearing soon. Akaashi why don’t you take Bokuto out for lunch as a thanks for our company. You can bring him out and bill the lunch to me. I want to communicate how very grateful we are to him for accepting our offer.**

**11:40 am**

**Duly noted.**

Akaashi stared on his screen. _‘Duly noted.’_ He thinly pressed his lips together thinking _‘I could have said something warmer like “Take care” or “Have a good day”. Or was that out of line?’_

He didn’t have time to figure that out because Bokuto was already peering in front of him with his bright, round golden eyes.

“Akaaaashiiiii!” He cooed again with a toothy grin.

* * *

“How are you two doing now?” Osamu asked as he sipped on his tea.

He was seated comfortably on cushy grey sofa of Kenma’s living room as the chairman seated himself on the arm chair just across him.

The answer was simple- a look away.

“Not good I take it.”

“Hinata-“ Kenma broke off, carefully choosing his words in a span of seconds. “-cares very little towards what others say about him. Rather, he’s more concerned with-“

“What’s being said about you.” Osamu finishes. “I have to say that’s quite understandable. He’s somewhat indebted to you and I’m sure this was not how he wanted to return the favor.”

Kenma scoffs, looking away to the view outside. His caramel eyes were frozen in a hard harshness when thinking about the whole situation, but even sugar melts a little under the sun. “Hinata never needed to return it.”

Osamu gently smiles to himself. “But he did. He did in his love for you, in the many ways he showed it in these photos.” Osamu’s fingers pushed through the photos splayed against the glass coffee table. They were expert paparazzi shots maimed in angles and violating corners to appear highly carnal and controversial to whomever laid eyes on it.

In reality, these were merely sweet moments, private moments, between two people loving each other. Unfortunately, those moments were captured and distributed to be composed in what we call today as a scandal.

“Let’s try to protect the love that Hinata gave you.” Osamu said placing the tea cup down as well. “You do remember our talk that day?”

“Very well.” Kenma manages, still keeping his eyes away from Osamu’s dark ones. 

It was the first Saturday since the public release of Kenma and Hinata’s photos. Osamu had immediately called out to Kenma for a private meeting at the comfort of his home.

Kenma was dressed in an oversized hoodie lounging on the sofa while Hinata was by his side, tense and fidgeting.

“Don’t.”

Hinata snapped his head at him with creased brows and large puppy eyes. “Don’t what?”

“Don’t worry about it. We’ll fix it. We always do.”

His young assistant swallowed hard, not entirely convinced or comforted at the words. Kenma was perceptive enough to catch on, eyeing the laced fingers of his lover. Tight. Instead of uttering another word, Kenma did the one thing he knew could calm Hinata down- hold his hand. His fingers were cold as they hovered from his own lap to the other. Slowly, he unraveled Hinata’s tight-clasped ones as if he was unravelling his each worry with every release of the finger. Gently, he intertwined his own fingers with Hinata’s, exposing every twitch, squeeze and nerve allowing themselves to be vulnerable together.

They remained that way while they waited for Osamu’s arrival. Minutes seemed like hours as they spaced out into the blare of the television, unconcerned with what was actually showing. Instead, they were much more hyper aware of each other, how Hinata’s hand clasp harder than Kenma’s; how Kenma instinctively drew circles against Hinata’s skin; and how each other’s palm were sweating at the anxiety of it all.

Only Osamu could somewhat dispel the tension.

Kenma’s willy explanations wouldn’t comfort Hinata one bit. He needed to hear it from someone else who wasn’t biased, someone who wasn’t concerned with him and someone who wasn’t his lover.

_‘His lover.’_

It’s a small thing to call someone your lover. Yet, there was something heartening about being chosen, in being seen and cared for uniquely than others. In Hinata’s head, Kenma had always been amazing, from the genius of his brain to the clarity of his vision. To be with someone such as Kenma, Hinata wished he at least had been more transparent or forthright with his feelings.

Instead, Kenma had to lead it through and through, leaving Hinata with the position of the one being led by the hand rather than the one who could walk by his side. His position as his assistant didn’t help him out feel any more equal either.

Now, with the burgeoning scandal, Hinata had begun to identify himself as a burden to Kenma rather than a partner.

“K-kenma.” Hinata stuttered. He gulped before beginning again. “Ever since we began this relationship, I’ve been nothing but trouble for you.”

“Hinata-“

“No, I really have!” Hinata was adamant to finish. “When Osamu comes and there’s any chance things could be saved by me not being here, me not being with you, I’d be fine if we’d take it. The last thing I’d want to be is to be a burden. After all, what kind of lover brings trouble to the table?”

“A real lover.” Kenma replies, looking deeply into Hinata’s eyes, searching through the pools of caramel and molasses that coat his pupils so hotly and bright. He squeezes Hinata’s hand lightly reassuring him he would stay by his side. “I don’t mind if you could never give me peace.”

“Kenma-“

Buzz. The lovers’ hands broke off at the thought that if neither of them could give each other peace, maybe Osamu could.

Osamu was seated across Kenma and Hinata. He was dressed casually, donning an oversized denim jacket, a loose white shirt and black, skinny jeans. The CEO uncrosses his legs before he begins, eyeing Kenma.

“You’re leaving your successor with quite a mess to clean up Kenma-san.” He retorts jokingly, though Kenma knows better than to take it lightly.

“I apologize.” Kenma manages with unnervingly cool, cat eyes narrowing on Osamu. “It was never my intention to have the company mixed with our personal affairs.” Kenma takes Hinata’s hand both for himself and his partner, hoping the touch’s comfort remained effective for calming the both of them down because he was absolutely certain what would come out of Osamu was nothing near gentle.

“And yet here we are trying to stop stocks from doing a deep dive, saving the efforts of so many of your employees in the upcoming projects and protecting you from social ostracization.” Osamu says in a single breath while raising a brow.

Kenma made sure to hold Osamu’s stare, lest it be directed to Hinata. Kenma and Osamu always had a deep respect for each other. There was a reliability that both of them had and shared. Because of that, they didn’t take things too personally when one or the other were willing to pick on things. It was a matter of quality control, standard and excellence.

However, at times like this, Kenma could thoroughly see why Osamu’s dependable sense of structure, organization and management could be interpreted as being a total asshole. He really was, sometimes.

Kenma sighed. He knew too well how Osamu would seem to keenly focused on meeting targets, demands and goals that, at some point, he’d forget to take in the emotions and thoughts of the people. One had to have a trained sense of compartmentalization with him. Luckily, Kenma was well- practiced.

“Can you at least tell me if you were here to merely reprimand me and my lover or offer a solution?” Kenma said as icily as he could, maintaining his light circles on Hinata’s hand.

The CEO’s scowl transitioned to a grin, a mischievous one.

“We have a plan.” Osamu says after reaching for some tea on the table.

“What’s the plan?” Kenma raises a brow. He could imagine that the only plan would be to have the whole fiasco retracted and buried under a much more pressing issue.

“We’ll have you and Hinata publicly come out and represent the company and youth’s support for same-sex relationships.” Osamu said with a straight-face as he sips on his tea once more.

“What?” Kenma says raising his voice and contorting his face in several expressions of panic. His cat-like eyes dilated into orbs as he took in the moment.

“I see that does make a lot of sense.” Hinata interjects with a wide-eyed look.

All of it was too much for Kenma to take in mere seconds. Osamu and Hinata were acting awfully calm about the matter as if speaking to audiences regarding the non-binary community would be a walk in the park.

“Hold on! Hinata and I have only recently entered an established relationship. It’s one thing to announce such things to those concerned and it’s another thing to publicly declare it to the world, especially if our first stage would be in our highly conservative society. How would that help at all?”

“It would help salvage the company.” Osamu says. “Let’s be honest, there’s nothing wrong with same-sex relationships. Actually, there isn’t anything wrong with any relationship that practices healthy and informed consent. It’s merely a social construct at this point to judge one kind of relationship as lesser than the other.”

“And?”

“What we’re doing here is trying to flip the script. We’re trying to sway what is the acceptable social construct. I think more of Japan knows that all kinds of love should be made acceptable. Instead of propagating outdated ways, this incident gives our company an opportunity to be at the forefront of championing this way of thinking.”

Kenma analyzed him over, trying to surmise if this was truly the authentic Osamu and not some look alike.

“All I’m saying is, let’s hit two birds with one stone Kenma. What do you think Hinata?” Osamu offers.

“I think it’s a good idea.” The tangerine boy beside him hooted as he looked at Kenma. The chairman was still pulled in a tight scowl as he exchanged glances with Hinata. He still felt awfully skeptical about it or, more appropriately, about the man before him.

Osamu never really imagined the world as it could be or as it should be. No. He was a realist bordering cynical. During board meetings, he would be the first voice of criticism, so quick to face the facts rather than take in the possibilities. However, for whatever forward-looking aspect he lacked, he made up for in his sense of stability and amount of levelheadedness he kept in all situations. It was one of the reasons Kenma chose him for the CEO position.

_‘However-‘_ Kenma stops his track of thought as he takes a good looks at the CEO. He was so certain and passionate in the moment as he continued to spew one hopeful statement to the next. _‘What-‘_ Kenma’s eyes squinted a little _‘Or who changed you?’_

“We need the both of you to campaign with us for same-sex relationships in line with the Alpha campaign. It’ll be a two-pronged strategy to create a media storm on the brand as well as attention on the issue at hand. Plus, it’ll blow over the mere topic of you two to the actual social issue at hand.”

“Hinata-“ Kenma interjects with his head down facing his lap leaving Osamu merely a cascading waterfall of ombre hair in his sight. “You do know what this entails, right? This means you’ll be put into the public eye, questioned, commented and written off as the press pleases them to portray you as. You might even be called names in the internet and in person. You are aware of the highly vulnerable position you’ll be placed in just for me and this company?” Kenma says gently while squeezing Hinata’s hand once more, coveting every trace of warmth. He could hardly look into his partner’s eyes, afraid that by doing so he would have some kind of involvement in his decision.

“Kenma, it’s because it’s for you and the company that I want to do so. You’ve always done your best to take care of me. Please let me take care of you too.”

Kenma gulped. He would always be involved in Hinata’s decision no matter what.

With that Kenma’s gaze lands on the smug grin of Osamu.

“Then, it’s settled. While my assistant is in the works preparing the Alpha line for a rebranding, I’ll be at the helm of organizing your campaign team and security detail. Let’s treat this as somewhat like an election endeavor. Our goal is to win as many votes from the public as possible. In order to do that, we’ll need to go them, sit with them and tell our story to them. It’s not a simple press conference. This really is in essence a campaign.”

With that, the CEO lifts himself from his seat and offers his hand to Kenma.

The chairman reciprocates and gives it a good shake before Osamu offers it next to Hinata.

“Thank you Osamu!” Hinata coos. “This is the reason you’re the CEO.” The tangerine-haired boy smiles.

“Don’t thank me yet Hinata. Plus, I wasn’t the one who came up with the idea. It was my assistant. I simply ironed out the details.”

“Oh? What was his name?”

“Akaashi Keiji.”

“Oh Kita Shinsuke’s mentee. Kita always talked quite well about him. He seems to be doing well with you too.”

Though well-meaning, Kenma’s words reminded Osamu that there will always be the mention of Kita when it came to Akaashi. It left a lump in his throat and a bad aftertaste.

“He is quite the asset indeed.” Osamu said with a strained smile.

“Let me lead you out.” Kenma said.

The two men shuffled their feet against the genkan as they approached the door.

“Please, this is good enough. I’ll make sure to lock the gate as I leave.” Osamu waved off to Kenma. “You should be more focused on keeping an eye on that orange of yours. He might look bright and bubbly on the outside, but fruits normally can’t tell you when they’re rotting inside unless you help them open up first.”

“Nice analogy Osamu and, really, thank you. I’ll make sure to frequently check up on Hinata.”

In the midst of stepping out, Osamu pauses in motion, glancing back at the retreating figure of Kenma.

“Hey Kenma!” He hollers through the door.

“Yeah?” The chairman cooly says.

“Was he worth it?”

Kenma’s mouth curled in a cocky curl as he revealed his little secret. “Yes. Why yes he is.”

“Good.” Osamu says, before he completely shuts the door behind him.

Fast-forwarding to the present, Osamu and Kenma were alone in the living room with no ball of tangerine to lift the atmosphere at all.

“Hinata is really working hard, huh?” Osamu says as he peered through the door of the master bedroom. Inside was a completely exhausted tangerine.

“He saw the hate comments I was getting online and wanted to perfect his speech as soon as he could. He spent all night revising and practicing his intonation and diction for the speech classes you enrolled us in.”

“Well it can’t be helped. You guys have a good story to share. It’s merely a matter of honing how you guys tell it. Also, I have an update.” Osamu perks up as he leaves the doorway of the bedroom and ambles back to the living room.

“Oh? Please tell me you’re foregoing having a stylist dress us up in the garbs you think are stylish.” Kenma interjects with a scrunched up nose that can only hope to portray his disdain.

Taking a seat, Osamu offers a succinct “No.”

“You and Hinata will be joined by our poster boy for the Alpha Line- Bokuto Koutaro. He’ll be joining your speech classes soon so all three of you will be in the same page.”

“Yay new classmate.” Kenma managed with minimum requirement enthusiasm for the CEO.

“Well, aside from the doing a check-up on the both of you, I also wanted to confer on the areas we’ll be having the campaign activities and forums at.”

“Okay go on.”

“We’ll do a roundtrip around the company’s three major branches- Hyogo, Miyagi and Tokyo.”

“In that specific order?”

“Yeah, it’ll be best to hit fast and hard at Hyogo. It’s located in the Osaka-Kobe-Kyoto metropolitan area, allowing it to be a great springboard to begin with vast communities.”

“I see. You’re going to start big.”

“You mean start strong. This is going to be the first point of our campaign and we have to create as much impact upon appearance.”

“That’s just the beginning.”

“Yes it’s just the beginning. Come chairman. Let’s head to your home office where we can discuss schedule after schedule.”

The very thought irked Kenma to the bone. Aside from having more time with Hinata, the very reason he stepped out of the position of CEO was to be rid of such responsibilities, but there really wasn’t an escape.

“Tired yet chairman?” Osamu poked.

“Ugh! Anyone would if they had to go to meetings of reviewing wardrobes, proper speech etiquette and writing spiels of our story over and over again. Now this!?” Kenma’s hair strands loosened from his bun transforming the chairman into a disheveled and feral man of himself.

Osamu was quick to hold his hands up in surrender.

“I know, I know, but don’t worry, we’ll start the campaign soon at our target areas. We’ll get your story to take off and you’ll see that your hours in that classroom and your hours doing paperwork with me will make a difference.”

“Seriously, who are you? What have you done to Osamu?” The cat spat in an annoyed flurry.

“Shut it chairman! I’m trying to fix a problem here.” The CEO chuckles before dragging the cat to the home office once more.

* * *

“Bokuto-san, is this really where you’d like to eat lunch?” Akaashi asked, worried that he may not be treating the athlete as well as he should be.

“Trust me Akaashi, when you’re in Japan, you eat only the finest in Japan.”

The assistant chuckled as the back drop of Tsukiji market appears in the distance of their long walk.

“You must have missed Japanese while you were in America.”

“Oh you bet!” The owl-like man beams with excitement as they approach a district lined with fresh fish, restaurant signages and plastic packed snacks on a rack.

“If you wanted we could always get a chirashi bowl in the restaurants around Roponggi.”

“Roponggi!? No five-star restaurant there can do it as fresh as Tsukiji. Tell me if I’m wrong Akaashi!” Bokuto whines as he easily slips through the side shops of the market.

All amused, Akaashi follows suit in their journey through what Bokuto calls Japan’s finest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took a while! I've been so swamped at work that I haven't had time to really sit down and write the next part of the story. Last time, we ended on the high regarding Akaashi's internal turning point. Now, that we're somewhat moving on in the story, I planned to have things get fluffier. oof time to practice that fluff. It wasn't obvious, I'm a specialist of angst than fluff, but hey let's grow together! Ahahaha!

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time doing a multi-chap fic! Hopefully, you'll enjoy my journey in trying to write this love triangle. I've never done one before since it's so tricky to have one love triumph over the other, but I hope you stuck around to see the different kinds of love I'm planning to showcase here. Enjoy!


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